


A Hunter's Life

by AliceN_Wolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood and Gore, Developing Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insecurity, Past Child Abuse, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-24 11:11:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 115,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12011502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceN_Wolf/pseuds/AliceN_Wolf
Summary: When thinking back on your life, remember: No amount of guilt can change your past, and no amount of caution can change your destiny.Oh and not to mention, SPOILERS if you haven't watched seasons 8-10 of Supernatural





	1. Prologue

My name is Britt Malloway and before you ask or just assume, it isn't short for anything. I'm a hunter. I don't go around parading that title so you should feel special. Reason being? I'm not the wear camouflage and make animal noises kind of hunter. I hunt monsters. Like, werewolves, vampires, ghouls, demons, the occasional angel, etc. monsters.  

No, I am not sick.

Yes, I am mentally stable.

Thanks for checking in though.

It’s simple really, there are things out there in this world that shouldn’t exist, but they do and it’s our job to rid them when they’ve been killing people. By "our" I mean others who do what I do.

I, myself, work with Sam and Dean Winchester. Brothers who I've known since my early twenties, almost eight years or so. I had promised a recently passed father figure of mine that I would stick with them despite my seriously added objections.

I have my reasons.

Anyways, we usually hear about the case if something “supernatural” or weird hits the news. We’ll find the patterns, find the source, and do what we do best in a matter of days.

Gotta love the hunter's life.

I once had a normal life... back when I was still in diapers but even then things were rough, As far as I know, my mom is dead and I was raised by my dad, David.

He met my mother the spring of '83 while hunting a ghost and saved her life. She was evidently grateful (hence my existence) but unlike most hunter's, my dad made he mistake of falling in love. Threats started inching closer to him and my mom so he left to protect her and didn't even know I existed.

I was a few months old when my mother tracked him down and left me inside of his motel room. At least that's the story I choose to believe, being that there were many versions told to me by him. Truth be told, I took care of my dad more than he had of me and I felt like I was never able to be a child being that I needed to learn to read faster since he wanted me to help him find my mother, and do research, etc. Which was pointless because she was killed a week after she dropped me off. 

Unfortunately after that revelation, school became a factor in my life that I quickly began to hate. Every other or third week I was in a new school surrounded by people who I had no interest in meeting. It was pointless. It wasn't like the kids wanted to know a weird new kid anyways. 

When high school was pretty much over, I lost my dad and tried to have the “apple-pie life” he’d always dreamed of me having but once a family friend named Robert “Bobby” Singer who had watched me from time to time as I was growing up, heard I was on my own, he took me in and I started and finished college while living with him.

I met the brothers when hunting a vampire years later and they must have realized how awesome I was because not too soon after, they would call for my assistance on some hunts. We grew close but I cut myself off from the supply of an equal friendship because I knew that the people you loved in this world would only be used against you and I couldn't risk that. I made a promise, but it was getting harder to keep it... 


	2. Meat Suit

****I don’t know what caught me off guard most; the fact that I was running for my life or that this hunt was the exact opposite of what it was supposed to be. A ghost hunt, now fright flight, was in the works and even though I was close to imminent death my mind had never been so at peace. Yeah, I was about to be torn to shreds by a hellhound, but the rush of danger made adrenaline pump through my veins like I was made for this.

Branches and sticks scraped my skin as I passed bits of the forest, leaving my arms and legs like the art project of a crazy child armed with scissors. I tried to look over my shoulder whenever I could but the fear of dying this way made my stomach turn so I focused on the unclear path ahead. I thought to myself, was this all in my head? What possible reason would a hellhound be after me?

Once I basically made a full circle around the woods, I ran towards the graveyard I was working in earlier, noticing the hole I dug was no longer there nor was my blue and white 69’ Chevy Camaro. In a heap of the moment, I stopped to take a breath, unsure of why things were fuzzy.

I cursed under my breath at how out of shape I was and listened cautiously for the hound. When it was clear that nothing was around, my mind went straight to the cabin I passed a few miles back. My legs grew numb as I picked up speed, worried that the hound had followed me. Before I could reach the patio stairs a figure appeared in front of me, making me crash into it and fall back.

I shook my head from the slight pain the impact caused and blinked to rid of my suddenly blurry vision. Once the figure was clear to see, I recognised the person and exploded with shock, “Dad! I-I thought you were in the motel...” His eyes flickered black and I stopped my words instantly, growing angry. He was possessed, great.

I got up from the ground and threw a fist in his direction, he caught my hand and twisted back with unbearable strength and I groaned in pain. I began reciting an exorcism but the first few words were all I could manage before I felt a sting on the back of my head and everything went black.

 

+++

The feeling of blood running down my face triggered me to regain consciousness. “You look terrible. I gotta admit, I regret having you knocked out. It’s been boring."

I blinked my eyes open to find myself tied to a chair and unable to move. I looked for exits but the only one I found was guarded by two demons. The demon possessing my dad stepped closer, and a knot formed in my stomach at the thought that he might not even be alive.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“It’s not so much, _me_. You've been making a real impact on our soul collection and Crowley doesn’t like that. He wants you dead.” He picked up a knife off the table near me and began to twirl it around in his hand. I looked at it quickly, glancing back up at the monster that’d been using my dad as a shell and kept an unphased expression.

“Can we hurry up and get this over with? I think my heaven has food.” I spat, venom lacing through my words. He circled me with a hint of confusion on his face then erupted with laughter.

“Don’t think you’ll make it there, but unfortunately, I'm not the one who has the pleasure of killing you.” He tossed the knife into his hand and gripped it tightly before slicing my arm slowly, letting the feeling of metal radiate through my flesh. I clenched my fists, willing myself to not feel the pain but hot tears began to form.

He cut me up and punched me in the face more times than I could count, but nothing more than muffled groans and forceful tears came out. “Though I do get to do that.” He teased and crouched down next to me. The feeling of blood streaming down my cheek made me wonder if he had split my cheekbone wide open.

“Let him-” A smack across my cheek cut me off, making me bite my lower lip to stop myself from letting out a cocky laugh to not only cover up a cry of pain but to keep myself from losing my sh- you know what I mean. “Leave us,” He spat, making the demons walk out without question.

“You're really pathetic, you know that?” The demon asked, “Excuse me?” I responded, spitting out blood that had accumulated in my mouth. It was one thing to think it myself, which I did often, but hearing it out loud? I could care less about what a demon said about me, hell, I would probably laugh along with them but being that it was my dad they were using, that felt like a different kind of pain. “I’ve seen what he has done to you. The _spark_ you've got locked away...” I kept my expression hard, despite the demons accusation but I couldn’t help but feel a shiver of fear in the back of my spine.

He positioned himself in front of me, “I just want you to know, the only way you're leaving out of here alive is if you kill me. And me meaning **both** , your daddy and m-” His phone rang, cutting him off. He plunged the knife into my leg, making me finally yell in pain, and took out his phone while putting on a fake smile as he answered,

“This is Marcus.” He spoke into the phone as he walked away. “Yes, the hellhound should be back in Hell. Oh, just, _prepping_ for your arrival, sir. If I may, why did we lure them with a fake ghost?” He tilted his head back to look at me, covering the phone, “Yeah, that was fake.” He whispered and brought the phone back up to his ear to continue his conversation.

I looked down at my leg, watching the blood bleed into the fabric of my jeans. During our chit-chat and torture session, I managed to loosen the ropes holding my hands behind a pole. I’d never killed a demon before… and I wasn’t sure if this would be one of the dumbest things I had ever done in my life or if I was going to live to tell the tale. I prepared myself to rip the knife out of my leg and when I did I almost screamed from the sudden loss of pressure.

There was no way Marcus was going to let my dad live, hell, I didn’t even know if he was still in there. I stood and gripped the knife tightly, relying more on my left leg than the other since it was in massive pain. As the demon slowly turned around to glance at me with its black eyes dominating my dads hazel ones, anger took over me and I shoved the knife into his chest.

Marcus dropped the phone that was still open to the call and fell to his knees with wide eyes. He held onto my bottom half, crying and begging for mercy. Just as he was crying, he began to laugh hysterically. I backed up slightly, confused as to what was happening.

He grabbed the phone from the floor and spoke menacingly. “Let me call you back, sir.” He slammed it into the table once he hung up and towered over me. “Did I mention David was alive when I slipped in?”

He smirked, I didn’t pay attention to a word he said, I was inaudibly reciting an exorcism, too clouded by rage to realize his words. He frowned when he noticed what I was doing and began to choke as I was getting towards the middle of the Latin spell. He smacked me to stop me. I kicked him in the stomach and he stumbled backwards. I continued the exorcism, becoming louder by the second,

“..maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam…” He twitched more and yelled, “Shut up!” I punched him as he ran towards me, making him stop and wipe some blood off his lip. He launched himself at me, making us fall on the ground and I was struggling under his hold.  
  
“...sec-ura tibi facias li-libertate s-ervire,” Black smoke began to fall out of his mouth, and he began choking me out of fear. “You can’t send me back down there.”

I coughed, struggling to breathe, “...te r-rogamus, audi nos. Tell Satan I said hello.” He uncoiled his hands from around my neck and screamed as black smoke rushed out his body. When all of the smoke disappeared, my dad’s body fell limp onto my own. I pushed him off and sat up to examine him, thigh with the stab wound shooting pain through my entire leg.

The energy I gained to finish the exorcism soon left and my eyes dropped when I snapped back to myself. Before I realized it, tears were streaming down my cheeks and inaudible sobs paired with them. I shook his body, unsure if there was any life left.

“Dad,” I shook him harder, placing a hand on his chest. “Dad?”

I called out for him repeatedly to try and get a reaction but his body laid limp on the ground. “No,” I started, unable to let myself believe what I had done. “No, no, NO, NO! Someone!” I screamed into the air, not sure if anyone could help me bring him back.

“Someone please.” I cried, “Daddy please.” I mumbled, voice cracking as I gave up and let it sink in that he was gone.


	3. Cursed

**Sam's POV**

"No, no! Please! No!"

My eyes shot open at the sound of yells echoing through the halls of the Bunker and my hand snaked its way to the gun under my pillow. I ran into the hallway, and to my surprise, to see Dean quickly point his gun at me in alert. He lowered it once he calmed down.

"You heard that right?" he asked,

"Yeah, Did you check on-" Another scream echoed through the bunker. Dean and I exchanged knowing looks. "Britt," We said in unison.

We rushed through the hall and with every step towards her room, the yells became louder and more agonizing. As Dean approached her door, he positioned himself to kick it open but I quickly stopped him before turning the knob slowly, widening the door and pointing my gun at whatever was attacking her.

The cries were muffled and we lowered our guns, relieved nothing was there but all eyes were on Britt, scared about her. Britt was thrashing around on the bed with sweat beading down her forehead. I looked at Dean to find him with fixed expression and clenched jaw. He turned to me with concern in his eyes.

Britt began to move around again, cries emitted throughout the room

 

**Britt's POV**

The nightmare occurred over and over again, the memory never leaving my conscience. I felt everything that had happened like I was there again, and I couldn’t escape it. I repeatedly saw flashes of my dad on the floor with his blood on my hands.

No demon would trade my soul for my dad's life. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I begged, the world remained dark and for the first time, I felt completely alone. Another flash of me yelling out to the open occurred and I ripped myself from it, not able to take the pain anymore.

“Ah!" I yelled as my eyes shot open, lashing out at nothingness. I felt a mix of sweat and tears stream down my face and I started to panic as I was unaware of my surroundings. I noticed a light coming from a door and saw both Sam and Dean doorway, and I remembered I was in the Bunker we had recently moved into.

"I-I'm sorry guys, just a bad dream..." I rambled, a little unsettled by the hoarseness of my voice and still trying to catch my breath. Dean looked to the floor, clearly upset, and left without a word. I looked at the time on my phone and groaned, 3:32 am. Great, well the fact that I woke them up so early made me feel even worse.

I looked to the doorway to see Sam still standing there, looking at me sympathetically.

"Sam, I'm okay. Really. Go back to bed." He nodded wearily and closed the door before hauling back to his room. I waited to hear his door close echo through the bunker before getting out of bed for what would probably be my last time in it.

 

I was cursed. A witch decided to have the last laugh and put me under a temporary spell, mostly because the victims don’t make it through the final days. Unfortunately for her, I’d had the curse before and survived. Sleep was not an option anymore. Each night, the nightmares getting worse and now was usually the time where I would stop sleeping until it was over. I walked to the kitchen, recounting the night that once again put me under a curse.

///Flashback///

Sam and Dean were in another room fighting 3 fairly new but powerful witches while I was held to the wall by the head witch, Ingrid Bailington. She and her friends were killing teenage couples to try and resurrect their past lovers.

As I was being held against the wall by magic, Ingrid walked up and gripped my forehead harshly in her hand. Everything went black for a moment then when I was able to see again, she tilted her head in thought, a toothy grin slowly grew on her lips and she walked away towards the table on the other side of the small room.

The brothers' grunts bounced off the walls and with that, she started to work quickly. She read from her spellbook after finding a page that satisfied her. Herbs, bones, feathers, some other things I couldn't make out, were thrown into a bowl and she walked in my direction, knife in one hand, bowl in the other.

"I almost forgot..."  She sliced my arm and placed the bowl underneath it to collect the blood streaming out. When she walked back to the table, she dipped her hand inside of the bowl and the chanting began.

"Tu vivat pati. Ut errare te faceret de patre nostro Biblia Satanas insanus morti Mos tibi geretur. Solum ad decertare dolor. In hoc carmine ego secundis mittitur, timeo Danaos erit."

By the time she was done chanting, she was standing no more than two feet away with the bowl in her hand. The next thing I knew, she wiped a finger covered in blood, across my forehead and oddly, I didn't feel any different.

"What the hell did you do to me?" I spat,

Before she could respond, Sam kicked through the door and pointed the blowtorch at her. She laughed a little and he put the flame into the gas. Sam's eyes followed to the spell book and the burnt bowl on the ground. Her magic holding me against the wall faded and I dropped to the floor with a grunt.

Sam fell to my level cupping my face in his gigantic hands. He searched all over me to check for injuries, noticing the blood on my forehead and cut on my arm. His eco-changing eyes met mine with every ounce of worry poured into them as he waited for an explanation. I just pushed myself off the ground and limped towards the spellbook. I skimmed over the spell and ingredients, trying not to seem fazed by the fact that I was once again cursed with the same spell.

///End Flashback///

The boys had enough on their plates with finding out how to close the gates of hell, so I didn't feel the need to tell them. I did tons of research, trying to understand what was happening to me and every piece of lore there was said the same thing: I was going to die.

Pulling myself from my thoughts, I began to make a pot of coffee knowing that I'd feel better once it was in my system. One cup would definitely not do the job so I made 6 cups. As I waited, I grabbed some leftovers from yesterday's burger run and began to eat it on the island in front of the stove. By the time I was done eating, the coffee was done. I poured some into a cup and made my way through the halls towards the library.

The Winchesters and I had recently moved into this Bunker that was owned and protected by their grandfather. Long story short, Henry Winchester was a Men of Letters, almost like a hunter but more sophisticated. He time travelled, yes, time travelled, to get help from his son, John Winchester, who is no longer alive. The spell he used was to take him to someone with the Winchester blood, hence why he stumbled upon Sam and Dean. Henry was protecting a small box from a demon named Abaddon, a real pain, and unfortunately, he didn’t make it in the end as we got rid of Abaddon. Inside the box held the key to a Bunker filled with every piece of monster lore there is and is protected by every sigil in the book.

I placed my cup on the table before looking around the library. My mind drifted and I began pulling some books and scanning through the pages. I grabbed a book about werewolves off of the shelf and flicked through the pages before placing it back on the shelf.

Something caught my eye in the back of the shelf before I set the book down, there seemed to be a loose plank in the wood of the bookshelf. Without thinking, I threw books out of the shelf to get to the plank, not caring if the brothers woke up from the noise. Once I was able to rip the plank off, a hex bag was in a ziplock bag, submerged in water. Curious, I removed it from the shelf and placed it on the table, ignoring the mess I had made.

As I took out the hex bag from the ziplock to examine it, water dripped onto the table. Before the hex bag could do any damage, I reached for the lighter resting on my ankle inside my sock but stopped when the bag began to levitate and I started to feel my lungs burning. Water began to drip out of my mouth and as I fell to the floor, I felt the ground pull from under me and in an instant, I was underwater.


	4. Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Nightmares, death, suicide, arguments, panic attacks.

**Britt’s POV**

I began to see dark spots as I grew more frantic, scared of never resurfacing. A strong force gripped me by the ankle and was pulling me down, away from the surface. I tried to fight, tried to swim to the top but the lack of air made my lungs burn. The light of the surface was nothing more than a speck and the darkness surrounding me turned darker every second. I should have died. I should have been dead, but nothing, it was a never-ending fight to reach the surface.

A figure of myself appeared next to me, suddenly the weighing force that repeatedly pulled me down no longer there. It was holding a gun, pointed towards me. In swimming in the opposite direction as fast as I could, I was stopped by, well, me. The figure turned the gun to the side of her head, “Make it stop.” she whispered, voice echoing in my head. She pulled the trigger and I felt a sharp pain.

I jolted awake, lifting my head off of the book on the table. ‘ _When did I fall asleep?’_ I thought. My hand automatically placed itself on my chest to control my breathing and I knew this was the doings of the curse. The first time I had the curse, the witch didn't have time to officially finish the spell so I was spared the realistic feeling dreams.

I looked at the time and it was a little before 7, the boys should’ve been getting up about now if they aren't already. Chugging the last bit of coffee I had left, I grabbed my headphones and a random lore book, pacing around to keep myself awake.

 

**Sam’s POV**

I woke up and picked up my phone from the nightstand only to be blinded by the screen. When I was able to adjust my eyes to the light I read the time, 6:58 am. I slugged out of bed slowly, remembering last night's events.

It wasn't unusual that Britt had nightmares but it was never that bad that she was screaming out because of them. I'd always ask what they were about but she’d brush it off and tell me things like “I was thrown into that scary movie I hate” or “just some haunted asylum”. I could usually tell when she was lying, and those were definitely the times but I never pushed it further than that. Dean, being the denial king he is, says she's probably just reliving hunts and stuff and I believed him for awhile until last night that is and I think he realized that wasn't the case either.

On that note, I walked over to Britts room to check up on her. The door was slightly agape, “Britt, Hey. You up yet?” I pushed the door further open and saw her bed empty and undone, which wasn't uncommon so I didn't pay mind to it. As I entered the kitchen, neither Dean or Britt were in there like I thought they would’ve been. I decided to go ahead and make some breakfast in case they came in grumbling about food.

Once I was done making a basic breakfast and cut some fruit I sat down at the table and started to eat. 5 minutes later, Dean came stumbling in with his hair a mess and shirt wrinkled, heading straight for the food I left out.

“Morning sleepyhead,” I said as Dean loaded his plate. He walked over and sat down in front of me before he responded. “Do we have any plans today?” he asked shoving food into his mouth, I shook my head. “No, I didn't check. Figured we should have the day to ourselves considering last night…” He just nodded and continued to eat.

After shoving more food into his mouth, he spoke again, “Any news from Kevin about the second trial?” I ran a hand down my face, “No, not yet.” I stood up and made for my room when I noticed Britt sitting in the library as if she were on edge.

 

 **Britt’s POV**  

I stopped my music and sat up when I noticed Sam coming towards me. “Hey- wow, _what_ is with your hair? Did a cow come in and have a makeout session with it?” His hair was sticking up in about 3 different directions, each one almost perfectly curled like a wave before it comes crashing back down to rejoin the water.

“Shut up. I should ask you the same thing.” He looked at my hair. I playfully rolled my eyes, "Screw you, Winchester."

He reached his hand out to assist me off the chair and I took it almost losing my balance on my way off. His hand lingered and I looked up to meet his eyes already giving me the sad puppy expression. He obviously wanted to ask about last night, you could see it in his eyes. Sam was a good friend but I didn't feel- more like am preventing myself to feel- like I was ready to be open about everything with him, same for Dean. I cleared my throat,

“Is Dean up yet?” His expression changed, probably to forget the subject or convince himself that I'm okay. He just nodded and I walked ahead of him. I couldn’t express how difficult it was for me to distance myself from them. I stuck with them for 3 reasons: They were decent human beings, almost every free night was one spent at a bar, and on a more serious note, it’s what Bobby would’ve wanted me to do.

Bobby Singer, short for Robert Singer, took me in after my dad died. For the first time in my life, I knew what care and love from a father felt like. I was a secret. It was best that way considering Bobby was a hunter that had the information for almost every and anything, making his place a headquarters for hunters. Sam and Dean didn’t even know about me until we met on a hunt I snuck out to do.

Bobby was always the one to confront me with my crap if I didn't bring it up first, and now that he's gone… It didn’t feel right to try and sort it with the brothers. I’d planned on leaving them, eventually. I was too afraid that the same thing that happened with my dad will happen to them and I don't think I could ever take that kind of pain again.

My throat suddenly turned dry at the thought. Once we made it to the kitchen I grabbed a glass, poured some water and chugged it down. Sam and Dean’s eyes were already fixed on me when I turned back around. My eyes met Dean's and I felt a sudden tug in my stomach from his glare.

“Please tell me you didn't eat all the bacon.” I smiled, trying to ease the tension in the room. “How much sleep did you get after what happened?” Dean asked with his full attention on me. I hesitated before I shrugged nonchalantly,

“Maybe an hour, not sure.” I shrugged, trying not to think about the drowning nightmare I’d had out of nowhere. I wasn’t sure how much time I had left with the curse, or if this time I was going to make it past the end but I didn't want anything to be different between the brothers and me if I were to die soon. Hopefully, they would move on faster this way…

 

 **Deans POV**  

To say that I cared about Britt was an understatement. I mean, she was a hard ass douchebag sometimes but who wasn't? Sam and I kind of had an idea of why she was that way but she was like us in so many ways that we knew better than to ask.

Britt hadn’t been acting normal for weeks and Sam says she's just drained from all the work we’ve been doing lately but at this point, that couldn’t possibly be it. She was one of the most badass, strong, beautiful, determined hunters I knew, energy wasn't really something she lacked. Our relationship was either extremely flirty or full-blown distant, only serious when it came to her safety which I sometimes went a little overboard with. But now, it seemed like the serious tension happened more often.

“What was it about?” I pressed, hoping to get something out of her. She stopped loading food onto her plate and shrugged once again.

“Nothing I couldn't handle,” she responded half mindedly. I turned to Sam to try and get him to say something but he wouldn’t budge. He just sipped his coffee and kept his eyes on her with his stupid puppy eyes that made my blood boil. _You know what, keep your secrets,_ I thought as I stood and made my way out,

“Let it go, Dean,” She snapped, “It was a stupid dream.” her voice was firm and strong, almost catching me off guard. I guess I said that out loud. When I looked back to face her, her back was turned towards me. Sam sat wide-eyed and I walked out of the kitchen secretly wishing Bobby was still around to help deal with this.

 

 **Britt POV**  

Lots of people have nightmares. Hell, these two have nightmares all the time. I don't ask or push them to tell me anything so why is it any different with me?

Sam was still seated diagonally from me and finally opened his laptop, probably to try and find something to focus on. I wasn’t going to lie, I cared about these guys… and agreeing to stick around should’ve given me the confidence to trust again like I did with Bobby but I couldn’t relive my nightmares with them. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if something happened to them because of me. Damn Winchesters, you build up walls just to have them torn down brick by brick.

The dark memories of earlier this morning began to creep up on me and in a slight panic, I tapped Sam’s laptop with my fork, he quickly finished reading and turned his head towards me eyes not yet meeting mine and when they did, he smiled.

“Did you find something that could remotely be classified- as- Sup-” my attention drifted to a flicker over Sam’s shoulder but after nothing came of it I returned my gaze to Sam who was waiting for me to finish. I cleared my throat,

“uh, supernatural or unusual? Any trial updates from Kevin?” I smiled a little but dropped it when the flicker from earlier appeared again, this time, showing a silhouette. Its identity was obscured by its position. I assumed it was male by its broad shoulders and short hair, but it never turned to face me so I couldn't be sure. Just as I was about to notify Sam, the figure turned around with a huge menacing smile.

“I'MM BACKK!” It yelled, making my eyes widen in shock.

“Uh, no not really. Britt? Hey, what...” The sound of Sam’s voice began to blur and so did the room, except for the man. My eyes started to water as I stumbled out of my seat onto the floor, backing up until my back touched the wall. I never took my eyes off the man, scared of what might happen if I looked away. _‘Tif I look away. ‘his isn’t supposed to happen.’_ I thought.

I hadn’t realized that Sam was shaking my shoulders, trying to talk to me. It wasn't until he began to lightly smack me that his voice was audible. “...going on with you?” He asked, trying to read my face as if it was to tell him what was happening. My eyes never met his, not fully anyway. I kept them locked in the direction the man was in.

Sam’s mouth was moving again but my brain tuned it all out. I felt frozen, tied down, but suddenly my fear got the best of me and I got up from the floor to get away from the man I’d grown to fear seeing.

Before I could make it out of the doorframe, Sam grabbed onto my wrist, making me turn to face him and tears began to weld. “Let me go, Sam,” I said, voiced cracking from the whirlwind of emotions I tried to tame.

“No, not until you tell me what's going on,” he responded, fear displaying in his eyes. I thought about it, telling him about the curse, but I knew if I broke, everything else would come spilling out and I wasn’t ready for that. I looked down to where his hand connected itself to me and ripped myself from his grip, running to my room and slamming the door shut.

Panic set in and I felt like sitting in a corner and crying for days on end. There was no way what I saw was real, nor did I remember hallucinations last time I was cursed but if that was the case, I had to leave before the worst wave hit. I walked to the closet to grab the bag I always had packed for hunts and quickly changed out of my sweats into black shorts.

“No escape” a voice whispered and I looked around, fearing that this was my punishment. I grabbed the keys to my car from the dresser and walked out of my room determined.

The brothers arguing could be heard all the way in my room and I almost slowed my pace towards the stairs out but once I was at the front metal door, I hesitated. Everything was white noise, the arguing stopped, and my breath almost slowed to a stop. I took a deep breath and without realizing it, I was in my car driving, not even seeing Sam and Dean race out the door, running after me.


	5. Singer Salvage Yard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Blood  
> Hi, everyone! This chapter is back and forth with time and with Points of view. Hope it's not too confusing, ENJOYY!  
> 

**Present Day**

**Sam’s POV**

“Yes, Sam, I'm looking as hard as I can. There’s nothing I can find that would even suggest a lead on where she is. Did you hack her phone?” Dean argued. He lost her at a stop light days ago and hasn’t returned to the Bunker yet. At first, I assumed he just stopped looking, but I should’ve known better than to think that.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “There’s nothing. Her phones either turned off, dead or broken.” The line fell silent, and I couldn’t help but word vomit the worst. “Dean, It's been 2 days. What if-” he cut me off,

“C’mon, don't talk like that.” he quickly replied. “Any word from Cas?” Ever since Castiel broke Heaven’s brain scrub and got his hands on the Angel Tablet, he’d been MIA, no one knew where he was. “No. I prayed, and called a bunch but nothing… Dean, maybe Britt’s gone."

“Sam,” he took a deep breath. “We can’t just give up here. We need to find her and quick. I- I've just got this feeling I can't shake, man. It's not good.” I closed my laptop and rested my free hand on my face. “I know, I just feel like we should be prepared for the worst. But keep looking, I’ll try to find something.” He said he would and hung up

I sighed and set my phone on the table in front of me. I knew I shouldn’t have thought the way I did but I had an unsettling feeling about all this. I knew something was up with her, especially after her panic attack this morning and I couldn't help but feel like crap after letting her go.

 

**Two Days Ago**

**Britt’s POV**

“Well, that was unexpected.” The car swerved as I jumped at the unexpected voice. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw the man from earlier. I quickly turned around to confront him but he wasn't there. _‘Don't let him in. He's not real. Focus, breathe._ ’ I thought as I exhaled slowly.

“C’mon talk to me.” He reappeared but sat in the passenger seat, almost making me swerve again. It’d been 3 hours since I left the bunker and I was a few hours away from my first stop. Not even a second after I left, Dean jumped into the Impala and followed me but he lost me a few miles from the bunker. Minutes after, my phone was ringing every second of every minute and instead of picking up, I just turned it off and threw it in the backseat, trying not to let myself hesitate.

“You should’ve seen their faces. They were heartbroken. Almost like the day you killed me… Yenno, you claim to be closed off for emotional purposes but they see right through it. Poor Dean, I was kinda rooting for that.” I tried not to listen and keep my eyes on the road but my eyes softened at his words.

 

**Present Day**

**Dean’s POV**

“What do you mean, ‘she’s at Bobby's ?!’ ” Sam breathed heavily as he stood up to explain.

“I mean, he was the only one who really knew her before either of us. Maybe she’s finally saying goodbye yenno, letting him go. She was scared like she was reliving something, and Bobby dying took a toll on all of us.” There was nothing left of Bobby’s house. It was burned down last year by those Leviathans. I turned and crossed my arms, “Bobby’s house is ash, Sam. There’s nothing left of it…”

I thought for a moment, speaking out loud, “...Unless she’s in the junkyard.” we said simultaneously. We gave each other a knowing look and rushed up the stairs towards the car, duffle bags in hand. Baby started up beautifully and with my carelessness for speed limits, we were in the yard in a few hours.

 

**Two Days Ago**

**Britt’s POV**

I made a left at the crossroads and saw the familiar beaten down “Singer Auto Salvage” sign atop of the entrance. The gravel under my car felt different, being here felt different. It was my first time back at the yard in about a year… maybe a little longer.

I maneuvered my way under the shack where Dean would usually park the Impala to fix her and once I parked I stepped out slowly.  The junkyard looked the same since I had last been here; The majority of the cars had their hoods up, the tool table underneath the metal overhead was still piled with empty beer bottles, and even the most recently placed cars had a little more than their fair share of rust growing. Only one thing was missing.

“This place looks like crap.” The man flashed next to me, taunting me. My head snapped in his direction and I stared at him coldly. “Shut up.” I spat. He faked a shocked look and gasped slightly, putting his hand on his chest. I froze when I realized what I just did.

“Is that any way to speak to your Father, Angie?” He smirked when he saw my state, “Oh, you didn't.” I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he’d be gone when I opened them again. The gravel compressing around me signaled that he was still there. I opened my eyes and looked forward, not meeting his gaze.

He stopped circling me and remained on my left. “Oh, you know what you did? You let me in. If you responded, that means either I really am real or you’re going crazy.” He teased, whispering towards the end. I shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to respond.

He snapped and I flinched. “I do believe I've got you right where I want you, Angie. I've got my finger wiggling ‘round your brain pan. Looks like times-a-tickin' for you’”

He pointed to my stomach and I felt a searing pain radiating through me and he began to laugh. I bent over, putting pressure on myself to ease the pain. My eyes shot to his and when I looked down to check the damage, my hands were covered in crimson and my gray ACDC shirt grew a dark blotch of blood. Before I could bark at him, my words were drowned by coughs, blood climbing up my throat and dripping from my lips.

“This should be fun.”

 


	6. Guns Blazing at the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Blood, light swearing, talk of character death.

**Present Day**

**Dean’s POV**

We arrived at Bobby’s and Sam flew out before I could park. The entire ride here was quiet, nothing but shaky breaths and the engine filled the Impala. Sam was on his computer most of the time trying to see if he could track down Britt somehow while I couldn’t do anything but think of the worst and grip the steering wheel till my knuckles turned white.

He looked at me and we parted ways. I searched the perimeter and junkyard while Sam checked the tool area and some of the surrounding cars. On my way back to the Impala, I noticed the closer I got to the unofficial road, the more the dirt compressed in areas and by the time I made it to the gravel, there was a huge streak of blood like they were dragged. ‘ _This couldn’t be her.’_ I thought.

I checked her car and nothing was there. No phone, note, nothing. The trunk was the complete opposite, everything was there except her gun but she never went anywhere without it. When I closed the trunk, angry at the fact I couldn’t find anything that could help my eyes shifted to specks of blood near the rear tire of the driver's side. I let out a shaky breath and Sam yelled,

“Dean, over here!” I rushed to where he was standing and he turned to me with glossy eyes before lightly pushing me back.

“Look, before we assume the worst, it-it might not even-” I pushed past him and looked to where he was standing before I came over and saw an almost dried up pool of blood. “God,” I squatted down next to it, Sam standing behind. He croaked,

“How long do you think that's been there?” I dragged my fingers through it and rubbed it between them. The blood wasn’t fresh, but it wasn’t faded either. The bad feeling in my stomach sunk further and I tried not to show it.

“A day, two at the most. There's a trail of blood in the dirt and by her car. Can you see if it leads anywhere else?” I turned my head towards him. He nodded before turning and walking away. I let my head hang low, shutting my eyes. My thoughts went to the worst possible scenario. ‘ _God, please be in one piece.’_ I let out a sigh and stood up slowly.

Sam was not even 10 feet away from her car when I walked towards it and he signaled me to head his way. “Okay so, the blood trails from her car to where you were, all the way through the dirt and just stop in this spot. And look,” he pointed at the junkyard, “tire dents in the grass, where the old truck should be.”  
  
“She took the truck?” I speculated, he looked to the sky before taking a deep breath, “Yeah, well. I mean, it's possible-” he froze, focusing his eyes on something, “Sonuvabitch, why didn't I check this before?” he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, swiped a bit then turned it to me. “Look.”

 

**Two days ago**

**Britts POV**

“Get the hell away from me!” I scooted backward in the dirt trying to get away from David’s taunts and torture. He’d been at it for hours and it felt so real that if I closed my eyes I knew he would still be there. Telling by the sun, I’d probably been getting my ass handed to me for hours already.

The torture was getting to me, not only was it my dad who is dead and has no way of coming back whatsoever it hurt like a mother. I had no way to tell if it was really happening or not. If he was real then it had to be some kind of ghost, shapeshifter hybrid crap. At that point, anything would’ve made sense to me than the fact that he was really there.

“Back in a flash.” he winked and flashed out. I laid on my back with a sigh of exhaustion and a wall of tears started to build. I opened my eyes, concentrating on the sky, and felt myself break a little physically and mentally.

“Bobby, I-I know we said to always keep fighting but I don't know i-if I can anymore.” a dry chuckle came out, “You’d kick my ass if you were here hearing this.”

I clenched my jaw, squinting in heartbreak and pain, “… why aren't you here, Bobby? I-I need you a-and I miss you. So damn much…” the layer of water in my eyes spilled, “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t open up to them. Love has no place in this life, you know that, and I love them so much but… look where it got y-” I choked up when I realized what I was saying.

The sudden roar of the Impala made my body shoot up and burst with adrenaline, ignoring the agonizing pain I was in. I dragged my way off of the dirt and onto the pavement, right in front of the Impala. Dean rushed out and held me up,

“Come on, I've got you. You're gonna be okay.” He guided me into the passenger seat and closed the door. He jogged around the front and slid into the seat. Before he started the car, Dean looked at my wounds and didn't say a word. ‘ _Why wasn’t he yelling at me?’_ I thought.

He drove with both hands gripping the wheel tightly. I felt my eyes grow heavy with sleep as I began to doze off.  Dean relaxed a little when he realized I was just sleeping and played my favorite song lightly in the background.  


 

**Present Day**

**Sam’s POV**

I sat in the passenger's side once I watched the surveillance and got somewhat of a location on the trucks license plate. “It's been in Michigan since 10 am yesterday. I'll get the exact address but head for Saginaw, Michigan.” I said, opening my laptop and transferring information.

I couldn’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier, Dean and I installed cameras around Bobby’s to make sure no one was stealing or messing with the place. I was speechless after watching the footage. Britt was talking to nothing- well, something but- I didn’t know. During the video, Dean walked away and sat in the car when there was blood, everywhere.

She was yelling in circles at nothingness, she was hit by air, she was bleeding terribly, nothing about this was okay. The whole thing was heartbreaking.

When she couldn’t take anymore she backed up with a hand out, begging for mercy. The video cut to the next camera and she was already laying on her back, holding herself. That's the spot where we found the pool. The camera turned off when there was no motion and turned back on as she crawled into the missing truck, driving away.

Whatever it was, I was only able to see it for a second and then never again, I couldn’t even catch it in a frame by frame, but she could see it the whole time. A theory sprung,

“Dean,” he turned his head, “remember when uh- the wall dividing hell and my sanity was peeling and I was hallucinating?” The same thing could be happening to her, except they could sometimes be seen by others. She had to have known the thing, she was terrified but it was as if it wasn't anything new.

“When you were guns blazing at the devil?” he chuckled a little. “Yeah, what's your point?”

“Maybe something happened that's making her go through the same thing. Except they're kind of… real? I- I mean,” I tried to make it seem like it wasn’t such a horrible thing but let’s be honest, it was probably the worst kind of torture there was. My mind drifted to what might have caused it all and after about an hour or more of silence, realization struck,

“Dean, she’s cursed.”


	7. Mind Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Talk of insomnia, anxiety, suicide, hallucinations

**Present Day**

**Britt’s POV**

A pain in my throat and stomach throbbed and I scrunched my face at the feeling. Light from the outside penetrated my eyelids, forcing my eyes to squint. My hand felt heavy as I rubbed my eyes until they could open a little.

I was met with a figure leaning back in a fixed chair next to the bed and I tensed up. When its head repositioned itself, I instantly recognized him and relaxed. Dean’s eyes met mine and widened a little once he realized I was awake. I tried to sit up but the pain and his quick movement to lay me back down prevented me from doing so.

“Woah, Woah, take it easy.” I scoffed, "Screw you, Winchester," And groaned in pain. Giving in, I laid all the way back down and stared at the ceiling of the oddly familiar motel room.

He stood up and walked to his bag, taking off his flannel, he turned his head towards me, “Your pride gets you injured, Malloway. How are you feeling?”

“Fantastic," I laughed, "How long have I been out?”

“Since 4 o’clock… yesterday. 20 hours is a long time, don't you think?” The red light of the digital clock shone 3 pm and a sigh came out. _Is the curse gone?_  I thought. The memory of what happened at Bobby’s made a quick return and made my stomach turn, I winced at the pain.

Dean walked  I looked everywhere for you, Sam thought-” Dean sat on the edge of the motel bed next to me and I reached for his hand,

“Hey, I’m okay.” Searing pain shot through me again as I sat up and laid my back on the headboard, ignoring the objections from Dean. I took a deep breath and prepared for the long story.

“Remember the last Witch hunt we went on before I left?” he nodded, and I told him everything. What happened to my dad, insomnia, anxiety, hallucinations, even the promises I made to Bobby. I choked up a few times and Dean put a hand on my shoulder, silently telling me it’s okay. I continued,

“It makes the victim go crazy making them kill the ones they love or commit suicide, at least that’s what it was originally. I didn't tell you guys because the spell doesn't last very long, and I'd had it before, sort of and with everything going on, I didn't think that it was necessary to put another burden on you so I kept it to myself.” Dean was quiet and David appeared behind him with a blade-tipped staff. _Not again._

 

**3rd person, In the Impala**

The car ride to Michigan was probably the most tension-filled ride the brothers had been in for a while. Each of them had their fair share of terrible thoughts about what was happening to Britt at that very moment from torture, to dying, to death in general. Sam explained why he thought Britt was cursed and Dean couldn’t help but stay quiet.

Sam brought up her sudden fascination with witches after the hunt and the changes that followed: The endless nights of research, the increase in alcohol consumption, everything. The brothers had seen the signs but both bit their tongue every time and Dean more than Sam, hated himself for it.

“Come on Dean, say something. Help me out a little.” Sam said frustratedly and before Dean could reply, his phone began to ring. Dean reached into every pocket on his person until he finally found it and answered without looking at the Caller I.D.

“Hello!” he said harshly. Sam looked at Dean, waiting for him to tell him who was on the line.

“Dean?” his jaw clenched and with a feeling of relief and terror, his eyes met his brothers. Sam quickly figured out who was on the other line and his brother put the call on speaker. “Britt, where are you? Are you okay?” Dean asked.

“Um, yeah. Still a little sore and I’m still at the motel? You forgot your wallet here and I figured you can’t really get anything without it.” Sam looked at Dean as if he had known where she was this whole time and Dean rolled his eyes at his brother and focused on the road.

“Which motel?” Sam asked.

“Sam? Dean just left like five minutes ago, how could you possibly be with him? I thought you were starting the second trial.”

Both boys were confused. “What motel and room are you in, Britt.”

“Escabana motel, same room number I always get.”

“We're on our way.” Dean gripped the phone tightly and hung up, putting it back in his pocket. “What the hell was that, Dean? Did you-” Sam started,

“I'm gonna stop you right there. How was I going to help her out if I've been with you all day? Plus, she said I was just there 5 minutes ago. I've been in the car with you for hours already.” Sam stopped his protests and both began to brainstorm what they were up against.


	8. Obake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: blood, abuse, torture, fighting, light swearing, death(ish)
> 
> A scene in this chapter has been mimicked from an episode to show relation and similarity between characters. Please don't kill me, I just want to make it as realistically written into the show as possible.

**Britts POV**

There was a knock on the door while I was slowly putting my flannel on. I reached for my gun and groaned from the pain shooting through my body,  “Hey, I realized I forgot my wallet when I picked Sam up.” Dean greeted as I opened the door, Sam right behind him. He closed the space between us with a bone-crushing hug, “I thought we lost you! Are you hurt? Are you okay?” I winced in pain and he let go once he heard me yelp a little. 

“Hurt, yes. Okay? I could be better mentally and physically.” I lifted the bottom of my shirt just enough for him to see my damage. “It's fine, I'm sure Dean filled you in on the way over here…” I sat on the bed and placed my gun on the nightstand, Sam sat next to me as Dean was rummaging through the bag on the table.

“So, um… the second trial, what was it? How do you feel?”

“Oh… uh it- it was to um- to…” He stammered a bit before both boys broke into a fit of laughter. They walked towards each other, morphing into one person, David. He continued to laugh, “That was poorly planned and way too much work. Honey, if  _ you _ don't know the second trial,  _ I _ don't know the second trial.” I backed up on the bed and fell, scrambling into the wall.

“H-how did I get here if you've been Dean this whole time?” I stammered, still in disbelief. “Well, you know how to hotwire a car, and I know how to make you hallucinate, one of my many powers. We’re connected, I know your weaknesses. The blood for the spell makes me know everything about you, more than you probably know yourself.” He smiled, laying on the bed. It took me a while to process what he had just said. 

“What are you, and what do you want from me?” 

  
  


**Sam’s POV**

“An Obake  **(oh-bah-keh)** ?” I repeated,

“Yeah, an Obake. Dad and I helped out a hunter who was after one before Dad went missing, It-it's a changing spirit. Sometimes witches enslave them and- I guess they...” I typed away as Dean gave me just enough information to find exactly what it was. “Found it,” He looked to me, waiting for details.

“Obake, according to Japanese folklore, are shapeshifters … and ghosts.” Dean looked satisfied with his correct assumption, “Ghost Shifters.” he replied, and I kept reading,

“It primarily refers to living things or supernatural beings who have taken on a temporary transformation or are distinct from the spirits of the dead. However, sometimes the term  _ obake _ can be a synonym for  _ yūrei  _ **(yur-aye)** , the ghost of a deceased human being. So it could be someone she knew that died?” We stopped at a stop light about 10 minutes away from the motel.

“Sammy, there are an infinite amount of people that knew her and died. I don't think there’s any way to narrow that down. What does it do and how do we kill it?” After pulling up countless pages of lore I finally found what we needed,

“Okay, it uh, it's powers are shapeshifting obviously, and hypnotism, causing their enemy to go crazy and eventually… kill themselves. We kill it with a silver knife soaked in... salt water?” He stopped the car and jumped out. I hadn't realized we were at the motel already, I jumped out as well and followed Dean to the trunk he was slamming shut. He opened a bottle of water and poured salt in it until it overflowed. He pulled silver knives out and poured the salt water onto them, handing one to me afterward. 

“Ready?”

  
  


**Britt’s POV**

My face felt numb as Bobby punched me repeatedly. As I fell to the ground, he began kicking my already wounded stomach, yelling things he knew would hurt.

“It should’ve been you-” kick, “-that died!” He grabbed me and held me up by the collar of my flannel.

“You kill everyone just by looking at them!” punch,

“You're a danger to society and my boys don't deserve your crap!” three more punches.

I coughed up blood as I fell to the floor and tried to crawl away but he grabbed my ankle and dragged me back towards him. 

“Oh no you don't!” he held me in the same position as earlier, making me kneel in front of him and started punching me again, spitting words that mirrored my everyday thoughts. I felt the skin over my cheekbone split and the tears falling stung the open wound. Bobby reached for my gun laying on the nightstand and held it towards me,

“Do it. Since you hate yourself so much. Let Sam and Dean live semi-normal lives, you know you're holdin’ them back anyways.” When I wasn't reaching for it, he smacked me. “Pathetic! I kept you alive all these years for nothin’!” At this point, I felt like everything in my body was broken, like, everything. I tried to get up to fight back but he kicked my knee from behind, I screamed, making more tears roll down.

The door flew open as the rest of my body fell to the floor, and I felt myself begin to lose consciousness from the pain. The two figures, I hoped were Sam and Dean, began to attack Bobby or David or I couldn’t tell, it was shifting into too many things at once. 

  
  


**3rd Person POV**

When the Brothers kicked down the motel door, neither of them saw Bobby, or David as Britt had, they saw nothing but a weird looking creature covered in blood, Britt’s blood. It was bald, grey, had dark eyes, elf ears and little to no clothing on, which resembled the appearance of a Wendigo. The brothers charged at the Obake while it could care less that they were there. His sire was to Britt, her blood was used in Ingrid's spell so she was the one to die. Every punch and stab attempt from the boys was quickly dodged by the Obake. His head snapped in her direction, and a sinful smile appearing as she coughed up blood. 

“Come on you evil sonuvabitch!” Dean yelled, catching the creature's attention. It turned towards him sinister like and spoke devilishly, “Why? I'm simply doing what she already does to herself, just… physically.” Dean’s expression didn't change, it just made him want to kill the thing even more. Sam slid over to Britt, trying to help her out as Dean kept the Obake distracted but she was in too much pain to say or do anything. Her pulse was intact but faint and Sam’s heart raced as he thought, ‘ _ no not again, not another one _ .’

With the monster distracted, Sam snook up behind the Obake that currently had Dean in a trance, and stabbed it with the silver knife, twisting it into its spine. It choked up as it began to shake and groan. “She was already dead,” it spoke as it disintegrated into nothingness. Both brothers instantly ran to Britts side, trying to wake her from her unconscious state.

“Start the car,” Dean said lowly, 

“Dea-”

“I said to start the damn car, Sam!” Sam complied, grabbing her stuff and taking the keys out of his brothers awaiting hand. Dean, moving fast, whispered sorrys and pleaded as he picked her up gently. When he rushed to the backseat of the car with Britt in his arms, his mind flashed to what the Obake showed him, torture, pain, everything Britt has ever felt… and lost memories correlating with it.

“Is she dead?” Sam yelled as he sped off to the hospital, ‘ _ yes,’  _ Dean thought.

“Dean! Is she dead?!” 

“No! No, Sammy, she’s gonna be fine, just drive.” Dean ran his shaky fingers through her hair, frantically examining her injuries. Sam entered numbers on his cell phone. 

“Keep her upright and breathing!”

“I'm not an idiot, Sam! I know what to do!” Dean held her upright and kept talking to her as if she could hear him. He saw that the corner of her mouth was split open, almost reaching to the middle of her cheek, her cheekbone and lip was spit, cuts bled here and there, and blood was dripping down her forehead. He had never seen her so hurt, neither did he ever want to. He checked her faint pulse every now and again to make sure it was still there.

“I need the nearest trauma center!” Sam yelled into the phone, “What's the address?!"

Sam drove faster when he hung up and threw the phone onto the passenger side. ‘ _ Hang in there, Britt,”  _ he thought to himself. 

When the hospital came into view, Sam ordered angrily, “Get her ready to go.” 


	9. Shocking Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Abuse, mild language, sadness, angst (I think, I could never use that word correctly), anger, alcohol consumption.  
> Episode: Oh trust me, you know the one.

 

Britt was being wheeled on a gurney throughout the hospital halls while nurses and doctors rushed her to a secluded area, Sam and Dean rushing by her bed.

“Page the abdominal surgeon on call. Tell OR to put electives on hold.”  
  
“Move trauma 4 to bed 6 as soon as it's clean.”  
  
“Head on impact wound from the right frontal area. Breathing slowly. Respiratory rate 13 and slowing. RTS at 90. BP 90 over 60. GCS 2.

 

“Let’s get a central line in here.” Watching them work on Britt, Sam couldn’t even begin to think with all the panic going on. Neither brother couldn't tear his eyes away. Sam spoke up, “What's happening? Please just tell us -”  
  
“Get them out of here!” a doctor yelled and a nurse reacted quickly, pushing the brothers out of the room. “Sorry. You need to stay out of their way” Moving Britt to the operating room, nurses cut up her shirt and pants, preparing for surgery. Dean stammered, “She’s our sister.” but the nurse didn't release her hold on the two as they tried to get through.

“What are they doing?” Sam asked and the nurse interjected quickly. “We need to take her into surgery now before it’s too late. Her body fell into a coma to prevent any more damage, she has major internal bleeding in her abdominal area, a broken hand and sprained knee.” When the two stopped resisting her restraints, she nodded and walked to the operation room preparing for surgery.

 

+++

Dean grew impatient as Britt was in the operation room. Sam had been drinking his 6th cup of coffee in 3 hours. A nurse leaving the operation room with a bloody uniform caught Dean's attention, he sped over to him. “How is she? What's happening?” the nurse stopped walking and turned to face the source of the questions. He scoffed, taking in Dean’s appearance in disgust.

“That depends. Did you do that to her?” Dean’s eyes darkened at his accusation, “No but I can do that to _you_ if you don't tell me what the hell is going on.” He retorted, obviously startling the nurse.

“I'm sorry. We got the bleeding to stop in her abdomen and were able to stitch it back up safely. They're trying to work on her hand n-now… she’s in a slight c-coma and the healing may take some time.” the nurse stammered.

“Like how much time? When will she wake up?!” People nearby turned to watch the scene as they passed by and Dean couldn’t care less, the only thing on his mind was making sure Britt was going to be okay. With everything he knew, he wanted nothing more than to hold her tight and never let go.

“We don't know yet… it's up to her to make the decision at this point.” The man walked away as Dean went in the other direction and poured made coffee from the machine into his cup. He walked over to Sam, who was still leaning on the wall outside of the operation room. “What’d you say to that guy?” he chuckled,

“He’ll be fine. Anyways, they got the bleeding to stop in her abdomen and were able to patch it back up. They're trying to work on her hand now. When she gets out she’ll be needing lots of time to heal but knowing her, as soon as she wakes up she’ll call time off B.S.” He took a long sip of coffee,

“That's good, right?” Sam asked,  “... I hope so. But I just don’t get it.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “What?”

“I- I mean first Cas, you, and now Britt? Too much is happening right now and I don't get why now. Of all the years we’ve had them around, why’d it all have to happen around the same time?” Dean felt like everyone around him was getting hurt and he didn't know how to handle it. Sam recognized the pattern too and thought the same thing Dean was feeling as if he read his mind Sam spoke.  
  
“I don't know man. I really don't. Don't blame yourself or think that any of this has to do with you, okay? We’re going to be fine. We always are.” Both sat down in the chairs nearest to the operation rooms, minds flooding of worst-case scenarios once again despite the talk they just had.

 

**Britts POV**

Strobe lights flashed… or was it lightning? A silhouette appeared in the corner and it was human. I couldn’t move. Was I tied down? What was this place? “ _Hello?”_ I tried yelling but nothing came out. I heard footsteps and a man spoke,

“Angie, I know you don't like doing this but to make sure daddy doesn't get in trouble we have to do this, okay?” he spoke almost routine like and I nodded unwillingly. I still couldn’t see much, everything was obscured by darkness. The only thing I could see was the man as he moved around, metals clashing together and knobs turning could be heard in the darkness...

“Now repeat after me…” The man said, “My dad loves me and I love him.”

“My dad loves me and I love him.” The words flew out of my mouth and I couldn’t stop them from doing so. The voice was young and innocent unlike the man in front of me, did I know this kid? What was this place? “I got these from playing in the park.” He pointed to what I assumed was my arm, The more I heard him the more I recognize the voice,

“I got these from playing in the park” I knew tears were rolling down my cheek but I couldn’t feel anything. My body grew numb after I realized what I was witnessing. I used to say those things growing up…

“Now, honey. You're gonna feel a little pinch, and when it hurts, I want you to say what I told you okay?” This was a memory… Electricity flung through my body as I unwillingly recited the statements.

Scenes of David hurting me as a child flashed quickly before vaporizing. He continued the shock until I was mumbling the words to myself, brainwashed by fear. When I forced my eyes closed and opened them again, I was standing in a hospital room.

I examined the room and saw Sam when I turned around fully, I instantly ran to hug him but my body went right through his. He was seated by a hospital bed, looking over someone. I tilted my head in confusion when I tried to get a good look at the person. I felt my heart drop when I saw it was me.

“Sam, come on, I'm right here. Look at me please.” His head began to lift up and hope rushed through me. His eyes were puffy red and had fresh tears dripping down his cheeks. My fingers did nothing to stop the tears that traced patterns on his skin. I couldn’t help but think, if this was it for me, the last thing I told him was to let me go… Sam stood up to slide his chair closer to me and I wanted nothing more to hug him and tell him I'll never leave them.

 

**3rd POV // Hospital**

Britt was moved into her own space after surgery and the boys followed close behind to stay by her side. It had been days since the surgery and there were no signs of her waking up. The two took turns watching her to get some sleep but neither could get any peaceful shut-eye.

Most days, Dean took it the hardest and others it was Sam who took Britt’s injuries as his doings. Dean walked into her assigned room as his brother finished wiping the wetness off his face. “Dude it's freezing in here. Are you not cold?” Sam shrugged, tugging on his jacket.

“I think she can hear us, Dean. I was updating her on us and there were tears streaming down her face. Do you think that's a sign that she’s going to be okay?” This time it was Dean's turn to shrug at his brother, he wanted nothing but for her to be okay but with all the blood she lost and injuries, his hope was tainted.

“I hope so, Sammy. Hey, it's my turn, you've taken over 2 of my shifts already.” Sam stood up from his chair and watched as his brother sat stiffly in the chair next to Britt’s hospital bed. He walked to the door but stopped to observe his brother. Dean relaxed in the absence of his brother and took Britts hand into his own. Sam smiled to himself and walked out of the hospital and into the Impala to get some sleep.

“If you can hear me... Or-or if you're having an out of body experience like they do in the movies, we need you back. _I_ need you back.”

 

**Britts POV**

“Dad, do we have to do this again? I promise I won't tell anyone.” I was quickly being walked through a dark hall into a room similar to the other one I saw. My voice was more mature, I couldn’t have been more than 14.

David gripped my arm tighter and growled at me before speaking, “Yes, Angie. You may think you won't say anything but you've come close to spilling before and I can't have that happening. So shut up and put on the mouth guard.” As he pushed my 14-year-old self down into the bucket seat he turned on the same machine I'd seen last time.

“You know the drill.” Instead of saying the words like I did before, I screamed as the shock ran through me. David turned the machine off and our surroundings changed into a motel room as he launched himself at me.

“It should’ve been you! Your mother would still be here if it weren’t for you!” I tried to fight back but my body was taking it as if it was normal and didn't hurt one bit. _What was my problem?_ As he finished taking his anger out on me, he didn't make any notions to shock me, he just sat in the single chair in front of the TV and took a swing of his beer. As my body turned to walk away from him, I was back in the hospital room with Dean now in the chair next to me.

“I remembered how much you like Elvis from when I was looking through your music on our road trip way back when.” He chuckled, taking out his phone. _The Wonder of You_ began to play lightly and he sang the words under his breath.

A tear slipped down my cheek and Dean moved to wipe it off of my body’s cheek. Suddenly the lights started flickering and the ground was shaking violently. I couldn’t help but panic.

Dean was unfazed by the chaos surrounding us and I tried calling out to him to help me. "I don't want to die, please! I have to stay!" My feet started to guide me to the door that opened to a lightning show and I couldn’t stop myself from sliding through it. When I tried to grip the door frame with my hands, they went right through it.

With shock flowing through my body, my eyes flew open and sent my body up. I gasped for air and coughed when a tube was preventing me from doing so.


	10. From the Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Hospital, mentions of abuse

Dean stood from his chair, leaning closer to Britt to help while Sam walked through the door oblivious until he heard Britt as she coughed. Doctors and nurses rushed in before he could react and they kicked the two out of the room once again.

Once they were able to stabilize and check on her healing, the brothers were let back into the room. Britt made a slight smile as the two walked in slowly, but looked down as she remembered their last encounter while she was conscious. The thought of what they went through to find her that day made her have hope that they would take her back.

“How ya feeling?” Sam asked as he pulled the two chairs by the wall close to Britt’s side. Dean stood a little longer, taking in the fact that she was okay and hesitated to sit down when he realized the chair had been moved for him.

“Screw you, Winchester.” she half-joked. Neither brother laughed and Britt's cocky, half-able smile dropped. 

Sam cleared his throat, "What happened exactly?”

The flashbacks of both the curse and memories played in Britt’s mind and she held herself, avoiding eye contact. She didn't know where to start… too much happened to leave anything out. Dean reached for her hand as he noticed her hesitation, Sam held the other even though it was in a cast. She took a deep breath, body aching in the process and recalling from the start.

“By the time I was about to graduate, I was one of the most feared hunters, aside from you two probably, I wouldn’t know. No monster dared to come within three towns of me. It was perfect, until one hunt. It started out as any other, people died supernaturally, we interviewed friends and families, did our research, but something didn't feel right from the moment I stepped into that town and that caused a lot of arguments between my dad and me throughout the job...

... The night before we were going to burn the bones of the ghost we thought we were hunting, my dad decided to slack off and as he laid passed out on the motel bed that same night. I took the car and drove to the graveyard.”

Dean interrupted, “By yourself?”

Both Britt and Sam glared at him, he gestured for her to continue.

“When I was halfway into the grave, I heard a howl… At the time demons and I weren't on the best of terms, as always, Crowley was just starting his rising to the top down there and little ole me was interfering with the soul consumptions in Hell so it made sense that something demonic was trying to kill me. It turns out the entire “ghost hunt” was a demon trick to lure me into town…” Britt continued and told them everything just as she had before with the monster.

Dean knew everything and never wanted to kill someone more. The thought of her father sickened him, made him want to punch a cement wall. Dean would’ve taken a hit any day from that Obake then witness what Britt went through. The worst part was, he lived it and felt it through her eyes. All her thoughts, all her pain, he felt it. He only hoped it was a trick.

Sam never felt the surge of electricity flow through his body, he never felt the rage or the sadness from countless beatings and so much more that Britt had to take in throughout her life. Sure he was beaten up by monsters, tortured by Lucifer himself, etc. but it wasn't the same. Dean couldn’t help but close his eyes and replay every scene she described.

“Anyways, I tried to bring him back. I loved him, more than anything… at the time. I tried making deals, meeting with a reaper, everything, but nothing worked. And I'm really glad it didn't.” she spoke angrily.

“I stayed with Bobby and went to college. He thought I quit hunting but I couldn’t stay away. On one of my many secret hunts, I messed up and was cursed by a witch to have amplified nightmares that could drive someone to insanity, kill their loved ones and then themselves. It was the same memory, that night in the warehouse disguised as a cabin.”  
  
“Why didn't you tell Bobby about it?” Sam interjected, she looked at him knowing he wouldn’t like her answer. “I did… just um… the last few days of it? At the time, I felt like I deserved every ounce of guilt, and torture that the curse gave me. So I took it. But when I found out I would be a danger to Bobby, I told him and he locked me in the panic room, not letting me out until he stopped hearing me scream at night. I never got to thank him for that…” A tear slipped from her eye and she winced when it stung her stitches.

“I'm sure he knew, Britt.” She nodded and continued. “Years flew by and I met you two knuckleheads. I fell in love with you so quickly it scared me. It scared me that I could be the reason you died for good just as my dad, and eventually as Bobby did. So I put on this act to protect myself and you from getting close, which Bobby saw right through, and I guess it didn't work at all because you still called to hang out and help on hunts and eventually let me tag along.” She sighed.

“About a month ago, on the witch hunt pertaining to Ingrid and her sisters, I was spelled again. The words were the same as the last but I guess she used a different potion than the other witch because I began to hallucinate. You two were getting close to closing the gates of Hell and the last thing you needed was to worry about me trying to kill you so I left.” They stayed quiet.

“I went to Bobby’s and hallucinated so bad I guess I was... hurting myself? I actually have no idea how that went… then “Dean” rescued me and took me to Michigan, checked me into the motel and patched me up. Then I told him the same thing I'm telling you now because I thought I was telling _you_ everything.” She looked at Dean, “My hallucinations still happened when “Dean” was there and I have no idea how it did that. Whatever it was.”

“An Obake…” Dean sighed,   
  
“What?”

Sam explained for his brother, remembering the countless pages of lore he had to look through,“...the witch assigned an Obake to you. It's a shapeshifting spirit that can hypnotize you. It takes the form of anyone you care about and I guess his job was to make you feel the pain you already felt about yourself and make you kill loved ones and yourself…”

  
“How did you-”

“Security cameras at Bobby’s.” Britt made a small “o”, unable to give the full wow factor because of the stitches holding the corner of her mouth together.

“Then I guess it got angry when it messed up. It turned into Bobby and did all this.” she took her hand from the brothers and gestured to herself. After moments of silence, Dean asked what triggered her to wake up.

She replied honestly, which began to anger Sam the more in-depth she went. She told them about the shock therapy that kept her from telling people about the abuse, that it was happening since she was 11 and it didn't stop till he died.

By the time she finished, Sam was out of the room and in the hallway, Dean followed, ready to calm his brother down. “How the hell are you so cool about this, Dean?! Didn’t you hear what she said?!” Sam yelled, making the people passing by turn their heads in their direction. Dean hushed his brother and whispered angrily.

“Of course I heard what she said, Sam! The damn monster showed and made me feel everything bad that’s ever happened to her and the last thing we need right now is to go on a killing rampage for a man who's been dead for more than 10 years, okay? So calm down, walk back in there and let’s do things right this time.” Sam heaved a short breath, trying to calm himself and ran his hands through his hair. He walked back into the room but couldn’t stop thinking about her dad and how much he hurt her.

Britt had a bandage around her stomach, a wrap around her head, cast on her right hand and left knee, to keep herself from hurting more she sat still. As the brothers settled in, Dean grabbed the chair next to Sam and dragged it so that it was on the opposite side. He grabbed Britt’s hand again and held it, bringing his forehead to it, whereas Sam held the other returning to their conversation.  

In the middle of discussing the future of the trio for the next few days, a nurse came in every half an hour to check up on Britt. In the first few days she had to be taken to monitor her body's healing progress and each time it was doing better than they expected.

Britts mind drifted to Castiel throughout her time in the hospital and hoped it was he who had been healing her. At the rate she was healing, she could be out in less than a week. Cas hadn’t been heard from since he almost killed Dean and left with the Angel Tablet.

“Miss Bellamy? It’s time for another x-ray. Boys, we’ll be back in an hour or so. Please wait outside.”

And all was okay, for now…


	11. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: may include but are not limited to: arguing, possible fluff (depends on how you take it), sadness, minimal clothing, implied smut.  
> EPISODE: 8x19, Taxi Driver

**Britt’s POV**

After weeks of being in a white room and plugged up to machines, I was finally discharged from the hospital, and throughout endless convincing, I agreed to go back to live with the brothers. Back at the Bunker, I decided to personalize my room a bit by adding vinyls to one of the walls and placing framed photos I recently got developed, onto the nightstand. Books I collected over the years were the last to be placed and once I organized them on my desk, I stepped back satisfied with my work.

In the library, Sam and Dean were about to start eating hamburgers Dean made but less than a minute later after I walked in, Dean’s phone rang. He reached for his phone across the table and answered. Prophet of the Lord, Kevin Tran called and told by the look on Dean’s face we needed to leave immediately.  

 

+++

“What do you mean I can't go?” I yelled as Dean was quickly throwing clothes into a duffle bag. Kevin called about an emergency and for him to send a distress signal in a heavily protected houseboat- thanks to our hunter friend Garth- it must have been a big deal. I walked further into the room to the end of his bed, he stopped packing and argued, “I mean you can't go.”

“Why not?” I crossed my arms, “Because I said so!”  
  
“ _Why_ do you say so?!” My voice began to raise as irritation radiated inside of me.

“Why can't you just stay?!”   
  
“Because he's my friend, Dean! I may not have known him as long as you have but if something is wrong or-or if something happened to him I couldn’t live with myself!”

“Kevin’s not dying, okay? For all we know he could just be sick again!” At that point we were standing in front of each other, yelling in one another’s face. He smelled like hamburger grease and I became even more unsettled that I passed lunch up. “And what if he is?!”  
  
“Then we’ll handle it!” He yelled, “So what am I supposed to do then, sit and wait for the call saying _another_ one of our friends is dead?! No, I’m going wi-!” He held my arms in his hands and cut me off, “We just got you back, and I need you to be safe!” All anger in the air vanished after his sudden outburst. His bright green eyes were penetrating through mine and I couldn’t tear away. Experience and fear were written all over him and was darting into my soul, I instantly felt bad for sparking the argument. He hadn’t looked at me the way he was now since the day found me after escaping Purgatory. My body stiffened as he held me.

“...I need you to be safe. Please stay.” I wanted to protest and go anyway but I couldn't argue with him anymore. “Okay. I’ll stay.” I said, still frozen from the sudden contact. His grip settled and for a moment I thought he began to lean in, or maybe it was me, or no one at all. Sam knocked on the doorframe and Dean let go of me as our heads snapped to the door simultaneously.

Dean grabbed his bag and I trailed behind to say my goodbyes. Outside, we exchanged hugs and both kissed the crown of my head, as usual, and I watched the Impala drive off. I walked back inside and grabbed my phone from the charger when I got to my room. There were hundreds of unread messages, missed calls and voicemails. Instead of ignoring them and listening to music like I was planning to, I sat in a corner with the phone to my ear.

A wet streak flowed down my cheek as the messages continued and only then had I realized I was sobbing. The voicemails started out blunt and fast, then became more emotional and long. The texts were also more lengthy the more recent they were... I wished I didn’t lie to them and keep secrets, it broke us.

  


**Throughout the Week**

Turned out Kevin was alive and was driving himself to insanity. He thought Crowley was in his head and I would’ve expected him to go crazy since he basically lived and breathed that Demon Tablet. Sam said that he’d been feeling better after the first trial made him seem drained of energy and I deemed it b.s because Sam didn’t seem better.

The second trial was finally deciphered and even though I begged to go help out, I was denied my requests over and over again. Neither Sam or Dean would tell me what the trial was, so instead of sitting by the phone and waiting on an update, I put a record on the turntable in the Library and lounged around in nothing but a bra, underwear, long socks and an unbuttoned, thigh length flannel.

When Dean called late the second or third night, I had to scramble to turn down the music which he then made the joke that I was acting like the teenager that has parties when my parents were out of town. He told me he was on his way to Maine to meet up with his brother to finish the trial. But why they were separated in the first place, I had no idea.

“I know these past few weeks haven’t been exactly easy for you, for any of us, but... how are you, really?” He asked, and I smiled to myself.

“I’m better. I’ve been catching up on lost sleep but no matter when my head hits the pillow, I’m up at 5. So I was just tiring myself out with music now... I finally checked my phone when you and Sam left...” I sighed, “I listened to and read all of the messages that were on it and I seriously regret even looking at it.” there was a hint of laughter in my voice, trying to make the mood a little lighter. “Well, you can’t blame us for worrying.” the line stayed quiet for a few moments before I heard him chuckle.

The conversation continued and at some point, I turned the turntable volume up so that I was able to hear it more and Elvis Presley’s _Wonder of You_ filled the silence of the Bunker. I walked into the main space, also known as the “War Room”, which had a table with an illuminated map of the world, and lazily propped my feet up as I sat in one of the chairs.

Throughout exchanged words, I could tell something was wrong. His voice was strained more than usual. I wanted to ask about it but depending on the answer, it would've just made me want to track him down. When Dean made it to his destination in Maine, he rushed a ‘call you back’ and hung up.

 

+++

When I hadn’t received a call from either of the two in a few days, I worried. They wouldn’t answer my calls, or my texts and my nerves were uneasy.

Just as I was pacing around in the library with the music's volume very low, the metal entrance door creaked opened and I grabbed my gun from the main table, hiding behind the wall just before the War Room. I was ready to shoot but before I could give up my position and attack, Sam’s voice rang through the Bunker, “Britt, it's us! Don’t shoot!” I exhaled in relief but froze when I realized I was only in undergarments and a flannel. I rushed to grab my shorts from the chair in the library and put them on before the Brothers could see me.

“He- Whoa, do we have guests?” Dean asked as he caught me buttoning my shirt up quickly while scanning for the nonexistent guest. Sam followed into the room and was confused by his brother's statement until he saw my state. He chuckled, patting his brother's shoulder, “Maybe we should come back later, Dean. She’s a little busy-”

“Oh god no. No ones here. I was just getting comfortable with the massive privacy this place lets me have. --What the hell happened to you two?! ” I walked over to the turntable to stop the record from playing anymore, lingering there to calm myself from the stress I was under. A few buttons on my shirt were still undone but it wasn’t to where my fairly decent B/C- cup boobs weren’t spilling out.

  
“The trial just kind of hit a- a nerve... for us both. We’re sorry.” Sam admitted. I stopped fiddling with the record player and turned around, taking in their appearances. Their clothes were mildly torn and they looked really tired. Remembering that bad feeling from earlier, I hugged them tighter than I probably ever have. When I pulled away, Sam looked at Dean and they exchanged nods, Dean walking away.

Sam grabbed my hand and sat in one of the chairs in the library, I let go and sat onto the table. You could see the gears turning in Sam’s head as he sat there. He would cut himself off before he could even start to speak,

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not rushing you, take your time.” he smiled at my statement and lifted his hand to mine, fiddling with them a bit.

“This trial… was a mess... I- I had to rescue an innocent soul from Hell and ‘ _deliver it unto Heaven_ ’ and in trying to get back, I- we got stuck in Purgatory... the soul and I… we were only there for a few hours and it was horrible. I couldn’t imagine being there for a year. Luckily, Benny… he uh, he helped us out...” My breath slightly hitched at the mention of Purgatory.

Sam gave up on hunting and shut me out completely when his brother and Castiel disappeared. That was not a fun year for me, too much booze and binge hunting. I honestly didn't know how I was still alive. And Benny? I knew how much he meant to Dean, but I didn’t know him enough to trust him as much as he did. Benny was a vampire, hence why he was in Purgatory. All monsters that die go to Purgatory to feed off of each other for all eternity. If Benny was there, Dean must have killed him and came back with Sam, I assumed.

“A-and Kevin left, I think everything became too much for him and he bailed.” I met Kevin a few times and got to know him really well the last few times I was sent to check up on him. All he wanted was to go to college and be with his girlfriend. If anyone should have a one-way ticket out of this crappy life, it should be him. I wasn't surprised that he freaked out.

“...Bobby” I snapped my head toward Sam, zoning back into the conversation, “What about Bobby?” I removed my hand from his and held myself. “What about him, Sam?” He sighed, looking down. His glossy eyes finally met mine.

“He was the soul, Britt. He went to Hell because of us.” I knew he meant he and his brother but I couldn’t help but feel just as guilty and angry. Sam quickly stood up and stepped between my dangling legs, hugging me tightly. Silent sobs filled the empty library.

“He knows about everything...” I held him closer, starting to feel the tingling sensation in my nose. I  was grateful he made no intentions of removing himself from me.

 

+++

“Dean?” I knocked on his door frame, making him look away from his dead gaze at the wall. He removed his headphones and cleared his throat, “Hey, yeah. What's up, sweetheart?” I walked in and sat next to him on the bed.

“I heard about Benny… Is he still gonna be with his granddaughter at the cafe?” Dean's face hinted with confusion as his eyes were on me, but it quickly hardened and turned to face the wall again. He spoke without looking at me, “He stayed in Purgatory. He wasn't planning on coming back.” I hugged him before he could say anything else. He was stiff at first but eventually melted into my arms, sobbing into my shoulder. All I could do was hold him and hold myself back from spilling any more tears.

Dean pulled away, “Why can’t I save anyone…?” He asked, fear in his eyes. I raised my hand to his cheek and whipped away fallen tear streaks.

“Don’t say that… You saved me, more than once.” I whispered the last part as if it were a secret. He smiled a little and placed himself back on my shoulder. I caressed his hair and held him tighter.


	12. Speed Limits Pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii, this is our big (two-part) season 8 finale!!  
> WARNINGS: light swearing, fluff, (I think if I give more I'd spoil it all)  
> EPISODE: 8x23  
> Like other chapters directly correlating with an episode, It will be mostly Britts POV, but to help the story pass itself along, I added relevant parts of the episode.  
> I do not own direct content from the show, that belongs to Supernatural and its creators etc.

After the second trial, everything took a turn to Hell. Sam started to feel worse, a friend of ours was almost killed by a Djinn, we met Metatron, the scribe of God whos been sitting on his ass reading books for who knows how long, Kevin gave us another scare and Crowley killed Sam’s old fling because he found out about the trials. And of all things, he was now threatening to kill our good friend, Sheriff Jody Mills if we didn't stop pursuing them.

Dean slammed his hand on the table, “Call it off, Crowley.”

“Because?” Crowley's British laced voice said over the phone teasingly.

“Because it’s over, you sonuvabitch. We want to deal.” As calm and sternly as Dean spoke, I couldn’t help but be concerned about his true intentions, not just stopping Crowley.

“30 seconds,” Crowley whispered.

“We stop the trials, and you stop the killing.” Dean proposed forcefully.

“I want the Demon Tablet- the whole Demon Tablet,” Crowley stated. I looked at Sam sitting across from me and when he didn’t show any change in expression, I grew even more concerned.

“Fine, but then the Angel Tablet comes to us.” I expected Sam to object but he just looked at the table, listening to Crowley on the phone.

I tapped the table, whispering attentively, “Is there a plan I don’t know about?”

“Yes, there is.” He spoke quickly and held his finger to his mouth, telling me to stay quiet and listen. Dean continued to yell into the phone,

“On the grounds that you’re a douchebag and no douche bag should have that much power. Deal or not?” We all learned in, awaiting Crowley’s response.

“...First, I need to hear two little words...” I rolled my eyes. “...I surrender.” 

Dean looked at me, seeing my glare and said it, a hint of regret hinted in his eyes after the words rolled off his tongue.

 

+++

After the eventful call with Crowley, Dean called Kevin to meet up and instead of trying to tag along just to retrieve Kevin’s half of the Tablet, I decided to stay in the Bunker. They probably would’ve wanted me to stay anyways.

I was reading in the library when the metal door to the Bunker opened. I quietly grabbed my gun after I didn’t hear Sam announce himself and pointed it at the intruder. Kevin held his hands up in surrender, “It’s me. It’s me!” I lowered my gun, confused as to how he got in. He held up the key to the Bunker as if he read my mind.

“I guess I’m staying here for a while,” he smiled, walking down the staircase. My smile grew and I hugged him as he dropped his backpack onto the floor. “So, what’s the game plan now?” I asked. Kevin shrugged,

“Well, Sam and Dean are just getting something they need for the last trial and boom,” he claps, “no more Demons.” I grabbed his bag from the floor and lead him to the room across mine, presenting it as if it were a 5-star hotel room.

“Alright. Look, unpack, shower and change, we’ll see what’s next afterward.” He nodded and did just that. I proposed that he stayed here with us after he got sick the first time but the brothers paid no mind to it so I dropped the topic. Having him in the Bunker was the safe and smart thing to do, we didn't have to worry about losing another friend if he stayed with us.

I walked to the library to return to my book, and moments later my phone suddenly blasted _Back in Black_ , almost making me fall out the chair.

“Hey, just calling to see if the walking translator made it to you,” Dean said, his car engine rumbling in the background. “Hey loser, yeah. He should be getting out the shower right about now. Why?” Dean exhaled in the background, holding his words back.

“Dean, Why?” I repeated. “We need you to stay there and look after him,” Sam interjected. The line stayed quiet but the Impala's engine filling the silence.

“I’m sensing a goodbye speech...” I stood from my chair, scared of their answer. _They’re leaving you,_ my conscience whispered _._ Dean’s voice flooded through the phone before I could continue any rant,

“Not necessarily... We- we’re a couple of hours away from ending this and we need you and him to be safe in case there's some backlash… okay?” I huffed at his statement. His request had the best intentions, but I couldn’t stand by when I could be helping them.

“No... I am not staying here _again_ while you two are getting your asses kicked! Kevin is safe in the Bunker by himself! Nothing can get to him here, so I’m coming.” Just because some things have happened between the three of us over the course of a month, that didn't mean I couldn't fight our fight. I was still a hunter and no matter how much they did it, they couldn’t keep setting me off to the sidelines, expecting me to be okay with it. I put up a fight, and unfortunately, they were able to convince me to stay with Kevin. Under some conditions of course…

“Fine but if one call is missed, just one, I’m hoping in my car.” Kevin startled me as he approached me from behind, eyes widened at my threatening tone. I mustered a light-hearted sorry, still on the phone. “Alright, alright, okay. But if something goes sideways, call me. Please. Oh, and don’t do anything stupid!” I said seriously before hanging up with a smile.

I put on my jacket that was hanging on the back of my chair and grabbed the keys to my car. Kevin squinted at my actions, “What? You don’t need a babysitter.” I smiled,

“Didn’t you hear what he said? You’re supposed to be keeping me company while they finish the third trial.” He stated matter of factly. “Dude, I’m just going out to get booze and food. I'm pretty sure if we're gonna be here a while, we're gonna need it. I’ll be back in an hour, maybe.” I kissed his cheek and walked up the stairs, out the door.

The clouds started to cover the sun as I walked to my car. The wind kissed my skin and I tugged on my sleeve as it blew. The air conditioning in my car hadn't been working and I kept forgetting to take a look at it so as soon as I got in, I pulled the windows down to let the heat out. Dean hated the fact that I hadn't fixed it and even though he volunteered, I still refused. The weather outside was not dramatic enough to need it.

As I pulled up to the Gas-n-Sip closest to the Bunker, I sat in silence, breathing slowly. My hands started to get twitchy and my teeth hurt from clenching them so hard. Before I could dwell on the feeling, I got out the car and into the store to get beer and snacks.

While I sat in the car once again to take off to the Bunker, I rested my head on the steering wheel, counting my breaths. I raised my hand to see it trembling lightly. “They're fine,” I told myself, “I'm nervous about nothing.” I swallowed the feeling and started the car.

  
Audioslave’ Gasoline filled my ears as I drove away from the Gas-n-Sip. I silently prayed to Castiel, hoping he’d come and tell me everything would be fine, or an update on him, or something that would distract me. When he didn't show, I cursed under my breath, “Of course. I’m not Dean.”

 

+++

**Abandoned Church**

**Third POV**

Dean walked out the church to give his brother some privacy while he was in the confession stand, purifying his blood, a necessary step for the trial. He needed to dose the demon with his blood every hour for eight hours, then slice his hand open, say an incantation and smack it over the demon's mouth with the cut hand.

As Dean was in the trunk of the Impala, Castiel appeared out of thin air, startling the hunter when he spoke. “Dean, I need your help.”

“Little busy, Cas. Take a number.” He replied sarcastically, still focused on the trunk.

The angel Naomi “kidnapped” Castiel, trying to make him into the soldier he used to be. She would force him to meet but make him not remember her or any of their conversation, make him report on Sam, Dean and Britt while in place so they wouldn’t notice, and make his priority finding and retrieving the Angel Tablet. Cas was finally able to snap out of it when he was on the verge of killing Dean.

“I’m afraid this can’t wait. Naomi has taken Metatron.” Dean stopped and turned towards Castiel, “And you know Metatron how?” Metatron was the Scribe of God, he wrote all the sacred tablets as God asked him to. He was a very powerful and valuable angel. “I’ve been working with him on the Angel Trials.” Castiel rushed,  
  
“The what?” Dean asked, stepping towards the angel, “We’re gonna shut it all down- Heaven, Hell, all of it…”

 

+++

**Men of Letters Bunker**

**Britt’s POV**

I ran into the library when I heard glass break and froze when I saw that both Castiel and Dean were in the library. Cas held Kevin by the sweater and I raced to the three once I realized the scene in front of me.

“Now, you are clear as to the task before you?” Kevin nodded instantly, averting his eyes away from Castiel's. I looked at Dean expecting him to rip the two apart but when he didn’t, I stepped in.

“Cas, what the hell?” He didn’t even bat an eyelash in my direction. I moved to detach them but Dean held me before I could do so. I turned my face towards him with angry eyes and he let me go as if he read my mind.

“Then do it, and let’s go.” Cas let go of Kevin and turned to Dean, placing a hand on his shoulder and flashed out before acknowledging me. Kevin began to look at what looked like another tablet. He told me it was the Angel tablet, and that the boys needed it translated in 6 hours. I walked off furious, calling Sam as I quickly grabbed the keys to my car.

When there was no answer, I left a message and traced his phone just as I said I would. I kissed Kevin on the head, “I should be back soon, and if I don’t, do not- under any circumstances, leave- this- Bunker until Sam and Dean come back. It’s warded to any and everything supernatural so you’re safe as long as you’re _inside_.” He just groaned and continued to take notes and read the tablet.

 

+++

**Abandoned Church**

**Third POV**

Crowley began to sing, annoying Sam. He turned away from the chained down Demon and sighed when his arms began to glow orange as they had done few times throughout the day and exhaled slowly to make it stop.

The church began to rumble and quake, making Sam turn back to Crowley who seemed unfazed by the commotion surrounding him. The Demon trap Dean spray painted earlier cracked along with the floorboards, breaking the seal. Crowley yelled when the noise stopped,

“Did you really think you could kidnap the King of Hell and no one was going to notice, dumbnuts?!” The church door burst open and Abaddon, Knight of Hell, walked in calmly. Crowley tried to turn his head to see his savior but failed due to the restraints.

“Hello, boys.” The redhead smiled. The body she possessed was young, no more than 30. No one knew how demons truly appeared without the meat suit except angels and other demons. Abaddon's body was small but curvy, definitely an eyecatcher at a party but her gaze could kill the mightiest of men. 

“That’s my line... Abaddon? They told me you were dead.” She smiled devilishly,

As the two continued to converse, Sam reached back for his gun sitting on the table behind him. Before he could aim and shoot, Abaddon used her telekinetic powers to throw Sam across the room and into the Church wall. The gun fired but hit nothing important. Sam groaned in pain and tried to stand up.

 

+++

Apparently, speed limits didn’t apply to anyone when the people they cared about could be in danger. Just as Britt pulled up to the church and raced out the car, she noticed glass that covered a chunk of the dirt on the side of the church. Over the rain beating every surface, she heard shouting and ran back to her car to grab defenses from the trunk.

Britt slammed the trunk closed, moving quickly but before she could run into the church, a burning sensation trailed down her throat and everything went pitch black.


	13. Speed Limits Pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: blood, possession, SamxBritt, DeanxBritt  
> EPISODE: 8x23  
> I do not own direct content from the show, that belongs to Supernatural and its creators.

**Britts POV**

When I was able to see again my head felt like it was going to explode. I tried moving to the entrance doors but when my body didn't move a muscle I knew something was off. I felt like I had no authority over my body or control of anything. I spoke, but it wasn’t my words, “This feels nice, I feel sexy.” She shifted in my body, adjusting herself as she pushed my conscience to the deepest part of my mind, only able to see what she did. 

+++

**Elsewhere**

Dean stopped Castiel from charging at Naomi. She claimed that Metatron's intentions were not as they seem. He wanted to not only close heaven, but to expel all Angels from it, just as God cast out Lucifer. 

“Our mission was to protect what God created. I don’t know when we forgot that. I want nothing more than to see you shut the Gates of Hell, but I told you that you could trust me. If Sam completes those trials, he is going to die.” She spoke through teary eyes.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Confusion and disbelief hinted in Dean’s voice. 

“I saw it in Metatron's head. The ultimate sacrifice.” She looked at Cas, “As for you, Castiel, I beg of you, stop this path. Metatron has been neutralized. If you want back in, truly, I will listen.” She disappeared, leaving the two angry. Dean was on the phone with Kevin before Naomi appeared, he’d been listening the whole time. He started to talk on the phone with Kevin again.

“Hey, right now, talk to me. Is she lying?” Kevin hesitated before answering, “I don’t know. Dean, I’ve been trying to tell you, Br-” he stammered, “Well, find out!” Dean roared before hanging up. 

“She’s lying.” Cas tried, “Take me to him.” the hunter demanded.

“Dean- ”

“Take me to him now!”

+++

**Britt’s POV**

My body burst through the door and Sam froze with wide eyes, stopping before he got to someone in a chair. “What the hell are you doing?!” Abaddon spoke through me, walking up to him. She held his face in her hands. All I could do was scream and scratch but nothing, absolutely nothing was getting through.

Sam grew confused, “Britt, y- you’re not supposed to be here.” 

“Sam we need to get you to a hospital, now…” He looked into the distance, stumbling for words,“B-but, I- He” 

Abaddon's voice rang in my head, taunting me. She held his cheek, directing his attention back to her and caressed his hair. “Hey, I don’t know what’s going on, okay. Let me help you.” He struggled for words, evidently still confused by my- her- our?- presence. “Okay, guide me. We can get through this, alright?” He nodded, looking down.

“Hey, I love you.” His face shot up, eyes widened. She wrapped a hand around his neck and pushed my lips to his. At this point, wherever I was in was completely destroyed, all except whatever was allowing me to see what she felt. I was kicking, punching, scratching any and everything but again, nothing came of it. 

His eyes closed and responded to her kiss, placing his hands on my hips and pulling my body close against his. Abaddon reached for the knife in my pant loop and hovered it over Sam’s back. Before she could stab him, a voice rang throughout the church, “Sam?!- Britt?”

Sam pulled away, looking guiltily. She turned towards the voice, seeing that is was Dean. I wasn’t myself, this wasn’t me. Why couldn’t they notice that? Abaddon in my body approached him, swaying my hips in the process and by the time Dean realized I wasn’t me, it was too late. 

“Get out of her or I will-” Dean struggled for air as the grip of my hand on his throat tightened, 

She threw him across the room and before Sam could do anything she held him in place with her powers. She straddled the brother lying on the ground, “Or you’ll what? Kill me? Not while I’m in here..” She leaned down and kissed his cheek, keeping him down with her powers. He tried to turn his face away but failed, “You’d be surprised.” He sneered. 

She hovered her lips over his ear, “Oh sweetheart, I’ve been wrong about a lot of things but this-this I’m sure of.” Dean looked at his brother, throwing his head back and cursed her name venomously. Her eyes flicked black, “In the flesh. Oh- well... you know.” 

Sam ached in pain as his arms began to glow once again. With a glare in his direction, her eyes were back to their normal shade of cedar brown. “Dean, don’t you think Demon looks great on Britt? I certainly think so. Maybe- maybe I’ll just stay in here and you can have the best of both worlds considering you love her so much.” She smiled, and he only pierced her with his stare. She ran her fingers along his jaw, whispering, 

“Don’t think I didn’t see the heartbreak in your eyes while these lips were on Sam over there. I know how you feel about her, Dean. Everyone does.” Sam fought her restraints, listening in to the words flowing out of my mouth, I, on the other hand, was too shocked at her statements to fight. This was some Demon trick, right?

“Screw you,” they said in unison. 

She laughed, keeping her eyes on Dean, “You would love to, wouldn’t you? I gotta say- It hurts a little, knowing a man so beautiful already has his eyes on someone.” She lifted her chest off of Dean’s, still straddling him. 

“Close em, the gates. Every last demon will be mine.” her fingers traced up his chest and she gripped his chin, bringing her face to his. “I want you by my side, Dean. Imagine it. King and Queen. Bonnie and Clyde. We’ll be unstoppable.”

“The only thing I’m seeing is you out of Britt.” He hissed through his teeth as she leaned in closer. 

“And how ya gonna do that without killing little miss sunshine?” She smirked, looking at his lips. 

“Like this.” Her eyebrows knitted slightly as she stopped her movements and removed herself from Dean after hearing Sam from behind. Her magic faded while she was distracted by the other hunter. Sam pointed his gun at her and as he pulled the trigger, Abaddon smoked out of my body with a scream. The scream was cut off by the bullet that dug through my side. My hand moved to the wound and was instantly drenched in blood. 

My eyes shot to Dean, confused and hurt at the same time then back to the blood seeping through my shirt. The sound of footsteps made me turn my head slowly, Sam was the source and my eyes shifted to the gun tightly held in his hands.

Blurriness began to fog my vision and the taste of copper filled my taste buds. I felt arms wrap around me as shadowy figures hovered over me. 

+++

**Deans POV**

I grabbed Britt before she fell and Sam slid over. “Hey, stay with me, what do you remember?” Sam asked while I put pressure on her wound. He gently tapped her cheeks, trying to keep her conscious. “I- um. I was outside grabbing my gun and knife to help out and then everything went black. I only remember bits and pieces after that.” 

I hushed her to conserve her energy and lifted her shirt to see the damage. Sam looked at me to see where he could help but my mind was occupied with Abaddon’s words. The blood was flowing fast and I didn’t know why it wasn’t stopping.

I didn’t look up until I noticed Sam stand from his place next to Britt and rush over to Crowley. He sliced his hand open and chanted an incantation. I stood, leaving Britt to wrap her flannel around her stomach on her own as she had done few times on her own. “Sam, don’t do this! Metatron lied. You finish the trial, you’re dead.”

**Britts POV** **  
** Everything hurt. I felt violated and used. My tongue tasted like the bottom of someone's shoe whose job was to step on metal. How I got inside of the church, I couldn’t remember. I tried to listen to the voices as their volumes increased but everything was fading in and out. 

“...none of it- none of it- is true. I know we've had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I've said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Sammy...come on. I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! Not even Britt! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you.” I groaned as I tied a knot on top of the wound. Deans tone became softer towards his brother and I tried to let my body relax but it only tensed more from the feeling of billions of needles in my side.

“How do I stop?” I looked towards the two, saddened by the scene in front of me. Sam looked down at his arms and squeezed the hand that was sliced open, making blood drip onto the floor. Dean stepped closer to him, “Just let go.”

He pulled out a bandana from his back pocket, “I can’t. It’s in me, Dean. You don’t know what this feels like.” He started to wrap it around the cut. “Hey listen, we’ll figure this out, okay, just like we always do. Come on.” They held each other in a hug and Sam’s arms radiated bright orange for a moment, then the light faded as the juice from the trials disappeared. I must have made a noise to interrupt the moment because they pulled away instantly. Both brothers walked towards me, blurring in and out. 

**  
  
**

**Dean’s POV**

Before we could get her up, Sam doubled over in pain. I stood Britt up to my side and grabbed Sam to support him on the other, holding up the twos weight. 

“I got you. You’re gonna be just fine.” We burst out of the Church doors and both were groaning in pain. I let Sam lean on the car for support as I placed Britt across the back seat. I couldn’t stop the bleeding and she groaned in pain, coughing up blood. “It-it’s n-not s-stopping, I lifted her shirt to see the blood spreading more throughout the flannel, darkening the material and I cursed under my breath. Her eyes were beginning to close faintly. I continued to panic about the wound and Sam outside, barely keeping himself standing, but when I noticed her body relaxing, I crawled to her face so we were eye to eye. 

“Britt?” I shook her as she laid there, not moving, “Come on dammit.” I lightly smacked her cheek, hoping it would keep her awake, but it wasn’t working. I lifted myself off of her and made my way to Sam, trying to get him on the passenger side. We rushed to the other side of the Impala and he fell next to the car before I could open the door. 

“Cas?!” I yelled and Sam began to wheeze. “Castiel?! Where the hell are you? Sammy!” He started gasping for air and I didn’t know what to do. “Is s-she o-okay?” He breathed slowly.

“She’s gonna be fine, Sammy.” I looked up to the sky, and lights began to fall, almost meteor shower like. The angels, I thought. “No, Cas.”

Sam squinted, looking at the sky as well, “What’s happening?” 

“Angels… They’re falling.” I turned my attention back to my brother and helped him into the Impala.


	14. Willow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Fluff

 

**Britts POV**

After days of being behind the wheel and weeks of normality, I was ready to go back home the moment I put my car in drive. There I was, the 55 West Building in Orlando, Florida, my home away from all the crazy, and I never dreaded being away so much. 

I stood at the counter of a little cafe I’d been going to every day and gave the barista my order.  Black coffee and a croissant were my usual meals in the morning . “Coming right up.” He said, walking away and starting to prepare my order. 

“Um, aren’t you going to ask me for the money?” I asked, following him as the counter separated us. He chuckled under his breath, “I was going to, but I figured you can pay it by going to dinner with me.” My cheeks started to heat up and I brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.

He stole a glance as he flashed a smile, grabbing my attention. “Isn’t it weird to ask a complete stranger on a date?” He lifted a part of the counter to exit the station and took off his black apron, leaving him in a grey t-shirt and black skinny jeans. 

“You’ve been coming here for two weeks already, I wouldn’t consider us  _ complete _ strangers.” I followed him as he walked to the table I usually sat at in the back by the window. His tall figure slumped into the seat across from mine, sliding my order towards my side of the table. I remained standing, questioning his motives. For all I knew, he could’ve been a monster and even though I just killed a vampire not even two days ago, I declared the rest of my time away to be hunting free.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” He asked, sipping his coffee. I took a good look at him. He had light skin, bright enough to blind you at the beach but dark enough to not be considered pale and chestnut brown hair that was short on the sides and medium length on top. His eyes shifted brown's different times of the day and even as he gestured me to sit, his white smile never faltered. Ultimately, I sat. 

“Yeah- Yes, but um, shouldn’t you be working?” I pulled the coffee towards me. He leaned over the table as if he were about to tell a secret, motioning me to get closer. I leaned in wearily, eyebrow raised. 

“I was actually off today but I wanted to ask you out so my shift basically ended as soon as you walked in.” He leaned back to his normal position, rubbing his hand over his pirate-like mustache and beard. “Must have been eager. You should’ve asked me sooner, I’m not going to be here much longer.”

He adjusted himself in the seat again, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” If looks could kill, that would’ve been it for me. I didn’t realize I was staring until he asked again, “Oh, um, if things are alright back home by the end of the month, I’m going back.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, we can make the best of it. That is if you accept, of course…” Might I add that his light smile hadn’t faltered, only grew from time to time. Maybe I finally had something good going for me, and if it turned out that he was actually a monster, I’d do what was necessary. I ripped my croissant, in half and held it out for him to take. He reached for it and it was almost as if an electric shock flew throughout my arm to my stomach as our finger touched.

 

+++

After the coffee and croissant were long gone and our life stories were exchanged, obviously, with some things left out on my end, the barista, now referred to as Eric, drove me home on his matte black motorcycle to get ready for our date. When we arrived in front of the building, I hopped off the bike and removed the helmet attached to my head and handed it to him. He sat in awe,

“What? Do I have helmet hair?” I asked, frantically trying to pat my hair down with one hand. He laughed while waving me to come closer, grabbing the helmet from my other hand.

He grabbed the hand that was patting my hair, held it up to his lips, and gently kissed it, “No later than 7, okay?” I reddened like a schoolgirl and couldn’t even form words so I just nodded. I didn’t hear the engine of the bike start up until I walked inside of the building.

I placed my black skinny jeans, and white long sleeve v-neck on the bed and took a shower, not washing my hair since it was straightened from the day before. As I was getting dressed and putting on light makeup, I constantly looked at my duffle with my hunting gear. Throughout our talk, I was able to subtly test him to make sure he was human. I figured since he works with/ around iron, I could cancel out shapeshifter.

Ultimately, I settled with a pocket knife I could put in my boot. I turned in the full-length mirror, checking all angles, and wow, did I look good. I grabbed my side bag and walked out the door and down the hallway to the stairs. The air conditioner hadn’t been working in the elevator for almost a week and I needed the exercise anyway so I didn’t mind.

As soon as I stepped out of the building, Eric was leaning on his bike with his muscular arms crossed over his chest. He wore a white v-neck with a black leather jacket and black, almost skinny, jeans. He held out his arm and I took it. A backpack took my place in the backseat and I looked at Eric expectingly.

“Ah yes, I need you to wear it as we ride to our destination, if that fell off I’d have nothing to offer.” I giggled as I put on the backpack, and his helmet. “Where are we going?” I asked,

“You wouldn’t want me to ruin the surprise.” He smiled and started the bike, driving off. The winds got colder as the sun began its descent, the ride was only twenty minutes but the sun finally touched the horizon as we came to a final stop.

Eric hopped off of the bike and took his helmet from my awaiting hands. He pulled out a scarf from his back pocket and held it towards me. I raised an eyebrow,  “I want it to be a complete surprise. Here, I’ll do it for you.” Before I could object, I tensed as he wrapped the scarf lightly over my eyes, tying it in the back. Relying on my remaining senses, I felt his hands leave the scarf and all signs of him disappeared, making me tap my fingers violently against my thigh. Hands creep onto my own and tugged me forward.

I barely knew this guy and now I was gonna die because I was stupid enough to think that I could actually have something normal. I felt like I was in the first 5 minutes of Criminal Minds which made me feel glad that I was a hunter and dealt with stuff like this for a living. 

We stopped suddenly and my breath began to shake as he moved behind me. “Ready?” He whispered into my left ear while rubbing my arms. I nodded and he started to unravel the blindfold. “Open,”

I opened my eyes and there stood a gigantic weeping willow tree in an open yet discreet area with a surrounding field of trees and minimum sidewalks. The leaves of the tree touched the ground and as I took a closer look, I saw that there was a blanket inside of the nature made dome. I turned to Eric whose focus was already on me and silently asked if this was it. “Go on,” he motioned. I walked toward the tree and took in my surroundings in awe before dividing the leafs as is they were curtains.

 

+++

“This is beautiful.” I awed. The sun disappeared completely and fairy lights tangled into the branches served as the only thing illuminating our private space under the tree. I was so absorbed in the scenery once again that I hadn’t noticed I had already eaten all of my food. 

“I’m glad you like it. My mom used to bring me here when I was a kid to take me away from my dad. We’d come anytime in the day and she’d just read  _ Fahrenheit 451 _ by Ray Bradbury over and over again.” I smiled as I listened intently. I read that book in college in my free time. It’s about a dystopian society where technology rules and literature is on the brink of extinction. The firefighters start fires, burning books and houses that are found with any piece of literature, as opposed to putting them out. A firefighter named Guy Montag starts to rethink his job when he meets a book-loving girl.

After Eric placed the empty containers into the backpack, we laid on our backs in comfortable silence. “Yenno, you’re the first person I’ve brought here.” I propped myself on my elbow and looked at him in amusement. “I find that hard to believe. A good-looking guy like yourself, I would think this is your go-to place.” He laughed,

“No, not really. I come here to get away from everything. Mostly my dad and his ideal future for me. I brought you here because you were getting away, taking a break from something and I thought you’d need it, especially after all that’s happened to you.”

I smiled a little, looking at the blanket underneath us. It took me by surprise how normal being here felt. He knew about the minor things like my parents and that I live and work with my friends but for obvious reasons, he didn’t know their true identities or my true life. My eyes flickered to his and he was already looking at me, lightly smiling. 

“I want to show you something,” I knitted my eyebrows together, “There’s more?”

He nodded, “There’s more,” he stood up and held a hand out for me to take. As I stood, he turned off the fairy lights before separating the leaves and walking out, pulling me along. The sky above us was covered in millions of bright specks, the lack of city light made them pop and appear more viciously. I’d been stargazing with Dean before but there were never as many stars as there were now. I was always envious of those that were able to read the stars as if it were simple common sense.

“Then should I pretend I’d never taken astrology in college…?” Eric asked. I turned to him, slightly confused as to if I said that out loud or not. I shook my head, “I just dislike the fact that I can’t remember them. A friend back home would make stories up to make me feel better.” He stayed quiet, and a slight smile plastered on his lips.

“Catch me if you can.” Eric began to run away with a childlike laugh, I mentally felt the cold knife in my sock, _“Please be normal, please be normal.”_ I whispered under my breath, looking into the dark field. I left the knife in its place and ran into the overpopulated tree area to find him. The leaves crunched under my boots as ran after him.

Erics shadowy figure blended into the darkness surrounding us and I couldn’t see him. The only source of light was splattered moonlight that somehow found a way through the tall pine trees. His laugh echoed as leaves crunching followed after. I ran towards the noise but when it echoed again, it seemed further than before.

“Eric?! I wouldn’t advise trying to scare me,” The eerie silence made me slowly lift my leg to subtly grab my knife. Memories of the night my dad died began to slowly creep its way into my mind. I was not going to let my guard down again. My knuckles were white as I held the knife. The darkness of surrounding me allowed me to sneak behind trees without being seen. 

A branch snapped in close range behind me and I spun around from the tree and held my knife up to skin of who/whatever to stop its movements mid-attack.


	15. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: fluff, implied smut, sadness  
> 

**Britts POV**

“Whoa! Angela, relax, it’s me!” I released my restraint on it, realizing it was Eric and slid the blade back in my sock. “I thought you- I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” For the first time since I met him, his smile fell, almost sadness and hurt loomed over his features. “Did you think I was going to hurt you?” 

“No, no god no. We’re in the dark and I thought it was a crazy person or something ‘cause, yenno, Florida. If I would’ve known it was you I wouldn’t have done that.” I said, out of breath. Honestly, I was hoping he was going to attack me, it would’ve only proven my point that nothing good ever lasts. “You weren’t kidding when you said your dad was obsessed with survival training.” His smile reattached itself to his face. 

Eric grabbed my hand and we ran out of the forest into the large field before the willow tree. While running, he tripped on a branch and we both fell, his stomach to the ground and mine on his back. I laughed and rolled off of him to join him on the grass, he rolled onto his back. 

“I hope I didn’t scare you out of going out with me again,” He laughed. I turned my head to see him looking at the sky, arm resting behind his head. “No, that depends on how the rest of this date goes.” He turned his head towards me, a smile growing. “Am I allowed to talk about the stars now?”

I nodded, and he lifted his arm implying for me to come closer. My hand rested on my stomach as his wrapped around my shoulder. He pointed out to the sky and told me each of the constellations and their mythology. I knew the easy to spot constellations like the big dipper and Orion's belt which made me feel less of an idiot, but hearing the stories surrounding it stripped that pride. 

Before I was able to ask why he stopped talking, the soft cushioning of his chest moved and I was underneath him. I laughed as my hair covered my face from the quick movements, he then started laughing as he brushed the hair out of my face. Eric’s eyes scanned my face like he wanted to ask what I was thinking. I turned my face to stop myself from blushing but I failed miserably. 

“Don’t hide from me,” His finger directed my chin to turn my face to him and Dean was on top of me instead of Eric. My breath hitched and I tried to shake off the illusion without making it obvious. “You’re beautiful,” Dean smiled, making me fill with confusion and butterflies. His eyes focused from my eyes to my lips repeatedly as he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear.

He slowly leaned down and rested his soft lips on mine. As my eyes closed, I returned the kiss and moved my hand up to the nape of his neck. The other hand gripped his arm as we deepened the kiss. We smiled as I flipped us over, my legs on either side of his hips, not breaking the kiss.

As I pulled away, Eric was underneath me and not Dean. I tried to shake the image out of my head of the man I thought of as a friend but it remained, challenging me. Eric smiled and moved from under me to stand and grab my hand to run back to the willow tree. 

Under the leafy dome, Erics back pressed against the tree trunk as we kissed. His hands lowered to my thighs and he lifted me in his arms, turning us so that my back was now pressed against the tree. 

 

+++

It had been a week and a half since that night and we grew closer every day. Eric and I were under the same tree and the breeze occasionally broke the curtain of leaves. My phone rang as Eric lightly played his acoustic guitar. I pulled my phone out and read the caller ID, Dean, I excused myself and walked away.

The first and only time Dean had updated me on anything was the third day I was in Orlando and that was to tell me not to even think about coming back till he gave the okay. He said he didn’t want me to be worried and enjoy my time off.

With the recent revelations about him, I was unsure how to act. Instead of love, a mixture of anger and fear played in my mind as my thumb hovered over the green button. I let out a shaky breath and pressed it, pushing all emotions aside. 

“What a pleasant surprise, I almost thought you’d forgotten about me,” I said sarcastically, Dean chuckled under his breath. “I couldn’t do that for the life in me.” The wind kissed my body as the sun began to hide behind the clouds. I removed my jean jacket from around my waist and tugged my arms through the sleeves, trading the phone into each hand as the other was put through the jacket. I was so ready to leave this bipolar weather of Central Florida.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Winchester?” I asked, leaning against a tree and picking at the bark. I didn’t know when I was able to go back to the brothers and the scale of missing Kansas tilted back and forth. The daydreams of lovey Dean happened more the less I was around him. I learned to manage it but a pang of guilt tugged at my heart when I thought of how it would’ve hurt Eric if he knew.

“Well, everything’s back to normal...ish. Sam’s been trying to get back into the swing of things so I saw this as a perfect opportunity to come back.” A wave of relief and sadness loomed over me. Eric and I had grown close despite our agreement of not getting too attached. After endless nights and Eric’s days off from work spent in the park, I didn't know if I was ready to leave it behind. Most of all, I didn't know if I was ready to face Dean in the condition I was in. 

“Oh. Um, w-why so soon?” I stammered. 

“I expected squealing and incoherent noises, not ‘why so soon’.” He let out a breathy laugh, clearing his throat and changing into a more normal tone. “I needed Sam to completely heal and get back in the game before you came back, I'm sorry I didn't call to tell you he woke up...” I felt a sense of relief but the forcefulness in his voice made me question his honesty. 

“Dean, it's fine. But are you sure everything’s-” he cut me off,   
  
“Yeah, Britt. Everything’s okay. Sam just misses you and won't stop asking to bring you back.” I combed a hand through my hair and crossed my arm over the other. “And you…?” The words flew out before I could stop them. I slapped a hand on my forehead, inaudibly cursing myself. 

“What about me?” Dean asked, lowering his voice. I dragged the hand down my face and regreted the words as soon as they came out. He didn’t miss me, his brother wanted me back, not him. “Nothing. I’ll be on my way before the end of the week, see you then.” I rushed,

“Britt, wait-” I hung up before any more damage was done and made my way back to Eric's spot in the park. I moved leaves to the side and found Eric standing with his arms crossed, looking at me with a mixture of emotions.

“That was your call, wasn’t it?” He said in more of a statement than a question. He unfolded his arms, rubbing his hands against his jeans. I nodded slowly, unsure of how he would react. He approached me taking my hands in his. 

“And you're okay with it…?” I nodded, smiling. His hands raised to my shoulders and he rubbed my arms, looking at me with a knowing face. My smile faded slowly as I began to shake my head no. Eric pulled me into a hug and I wrapped my arms around him as he rubbed my back. 

I knew this day was coming and truth be told, I was prepared to leave without any attachments on that day but now that it was here, I regretted sticking around. Eric was the perfect distraction but he also grew on me more than I expected. The fantasies of Dean were not the reason I stayed, hell, I wished they never started but the feeling of having someone was what I stuck around for.

“I'm sorry…” I whispered. Eric released me from his embrace and rested a hand on my cheek. “For what?” He asked, “Not making this easy…” I rested the temple of my head on his chest as I looked to the ground. My thoughts spiraled. I could’ve told him who I really was, then he would think I was crazy and that would make leaving so much easier. But I couldn't do that. He didn’t deserve it. 

“The sooner I leave, the easier it will be to forget and move on.” I breathed out, “Who said anything about forgetting? Angela, I'll admit that it won't be easy but you can't ask me to forget about you.” He lifted my head to meet his concerned eyes, but once again, Dean looked me in the eyes and I ripped myself from his gaze to shake the thought away. 

“Goodbye.” I forced to remove myself from his touch and walked away. The tears welled up but I pushed them down as far as I could to not give in to the feeling. I started my car and set for Downtown Orlando where my rented apartment was. Luckily, I never settled into the apartment so all I had to do was grab my duffle, pay and go.

 

+++

I placed the key on the building owner’s desk, “Why so soon?” I shrugged my duffle further onto my shoulder. “Family emergency, Jason. How much do I owe you?” He exhaled deeply, and punched some numbers into a nearby calculator, writing out the calculations in his notebook.

Jason was an older white man whose facial hair seemed dyed grey as opposed to white. He resembled George Clooney and his mannerisms reminded me of Clooney as Bruce Wayne in  _ Batman _ , especially since his glasses shaped his roundish face to look thinner.

“$650,” I grabbed my wallet, pulling out the cash but paused in thought. “What about the other $350?” Jason stood from his roller chair behind the desk and sat on the corner of it, handing me a small box. I tilted my head confused as I opened it, a rose gold fire-shaped pendant hung on a necklace with a pear cut ruby hanging in the middle of the pendant. 

“Does he know?” He asked, gesturing to the necklace. I closed the box crossed my arms, “Know what?” I played dumbfoundedly. 

“Who you really are? What you're really going back to?” I stood my ground, not changing the stone expression displayed on my face. He took off his glasses and wiped his face with his hand before continuing. 

“I've seen you walk in early in the morning, covered in blood just days after the mysterious attacks in Eatonville and Winter Park. I know what you are, hunter.” He lifted his ankle to place it on top of the other thigh, pulling his pant material up to reveal an Anti Possession Tattoo on his ankle. I stood down, quickly putting the box in my duffle. 

“No, he doesn't… could you- just- make sure he's safe. He told me you two saw each other frequently considering you’re family friends and all… call or text me if anything and I mean if  _ anything _ is wrong.” I looked at my watch, suddenly feeling rushed. I wrote my number down and gave it to him with the money and rushed out of the building. 

 

+++

A few hours into the car ride, I unzipped my duffle placed on the passenger seat and pulled out the gift from Eric. I inhaled deeply, gripping the wheel tightly as the feeling of regret set in. Left the chain in its place in the box and kept a mental note to put it away once I got back to the Bunker. “Move on and forget.” I forced under my breath. 

I tugged on my flannel and fed into my anxious feeling as I tapped my steering wheel rapidly. Back to the crazy I went, and away the small moment of normality I had.


	16. Broken and Fixed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Blood, sadness, coma, salty!Britt, hospitals (I've seen this as a warning), fluff, oblivious idiot interaction, etc.  
> Enjoy!!

**Britts POV**

“Let me see if I got this right. Cas is human, and just before I called you to open the door, Charlie went to Oz with Dorothy through our garage door?” I asked, still amused by the words coming out of my mouth. Dean nodded slowly, silently asking if I need him to repeat it again. Charlie was a hacker-turned-hunter after she helped the three of us take down the Leviathan monsters a few years ago and has kind of been our distant best friend ever since.   

I laughed and held my duffle bag up for him to assist me, “You couldn’t call me about Cas? I was gone forever and you called twice.”

I followed him as he lead me to my room. “Yeah, I know I should’ve called but I wanted you to forget about us for a while.” He set the bag on my bed, zipping it open as he sat down next to it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you…” I warned as I peeled my leather jacket off.

He looked at me with a plain face and flung it open. All of my best-fitted clothes and undergarments were piled inside, making Dean’s jaw drop slightly. “Why don’t you wear this stuff around us?” He asked as he held up a lacey black bra, “I do. You just never have the pleasure of seeing it.”

Without hesitation, I snatched the bra from his hand, shoved it back into the bag,  and threw the entire thing into the closet. I reached for his hands, playfully pulling him off of my bed in trying to kick him out. His body closed in on mine as he stood.

Although we were less than arm's length from each other, it felt suffocating. Dean wasn’t that much taller than me. I was 5’6 to his 6’1 but there wasn’t that much I had to bend my neck unless we were close like this. His gaze raked my face as he looked down at me, my cheeks felt warmer by the second. That feeling I had with Eric when my mind played matchmaker started to form and this time, I welcomed the feeling with open arms. Deans apple green eyes laced with my own as we stood there, slowly filling the space between us.

Sam strolled in just before either of us said or did anything, “I thought I heard you! Hey, beautiful.” He smiled before pulling me into a long bone-crushing hug. Sam looked a lot better than the last time I saw him…

 

+++

_A Month Ago_

The melody of Hey Jude by _The Beatles_ was the first thing I heard when I woke up. I groaned, taking in my surroundings, I’m in the Impala. Wait. Church. Sam. I was… straddling Dean? Why couldn’t I remember what happened?

“Finally, I thought I was gonna have to put you in there, too.” A voice said from the front seat, turning down the already low volume on the radio. I sat up slightly, only to hiss at the pain in my side. I looked at the source of the voice and saw Dean sliding out of the car. The door across from me opened and I was welcomed with a hug cut short as I winced.

Once he let go of me I lifted my shirt to see my damage. My side was covered by a large Winchester-made bandaid. There was dried blood surrounding a wrapped wound, “What happened?” I asked, coughing from the dryness of my throat. Dean reached over the front seat and passed me a bottle of water and clenched his jaw before speaking.

“You were possessed by Abaddon and Sam shot you out of fear and wanting to hurt her but she smoked out before it even scratched her… you lost a lot of blood and you passed out before… you don’t remember anything?” I shook my head.

“Did he do it? Did he close the gates?” He looked down and let out a long breath. “No. If Sam would’ve completed the last trial, he would’ve died. I stopped him before he did it and since the trials were setting him up to die, destroying him from the inside, he was pretty messed up… Now he’s in a coma inside.” I turned my head to look at the building we were parked in front of, a hospital.

Sam. Coma _._ I tried to process the news as strongly as I could but my stomach felt tight other than the fact that I was injured. “How long has he been out…?” I asked softly, still looking out the window to the hospital, “A couple days, same as you. If you didn't wake up soon, I was gonna have to put you in there, too.” I looked back at him and nodded.

I could see the confusion in his eyes as to why I wasn’t reacting differently to the news but truth be told, I didn’t know what to feel. There was so much to take in at once, being possessed, getting shot, passing out, Sam in a coma, it was a lot to take in.

“Can we go see him?” I placed my hand on top of his. He looked down at my side and sighed, “Yeah, let me grab you some clothes to change into.”

We walked into the hospital afterward and I tried not to wince every time I took a step but I couldn’t help it. When Dean opened the door for me to walk in, I almost broke right then and there. My breath hitched in my throat and my brain couldn’t produce proper thoughts that would make things seem less bad.

There he was, motionless on the hospital bed. I slowly walked up to him and kissed his forehead,

“Hey Sam,” I sat down in the chair posted next to him and held his hand. Dean stood outside, leaving me alone with his comatose brother. I felt nauseous at the sight of Sams state, the silence of the room was sickening. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I stood from my chair quickly and stormed out of the room.

I burst out the door and set for the Impala but Dean followed after my fast pace. As soon as he caught up he grabbed my arm to face him and I let my face smash into his chest. The fresh wall of tears that built after leaving Sam knocked down and I couldn’t stop sobbing into his chest. He pat my hair down and tried to comfort me but in reality, I don’t think he had ever seen me so vulnerable other than my confession at the hospital so he didn’t know how to react.

Dean pulled away and pushed the hair that covered my face away with some strands behind my ears. “Listen, Britt. You might not like this idea, a-and you can say no, but… maybe you should take a break from-” I cut him off, knowing exactly what his intentions were. “Yeah. I- I’ll go away for a few weeks and come back when everything's the way it should be,” I said, as he wiped fallen tears off of my cheeks.

“I’ll distract myself with Disney World in Florida or something.” He let out a forced laugh, not too excited by the idea. “You do that. Look, I’ll call you a taxi to take you to your car and I will see you soon, okay?”

 

+++

Weeks later and I was where I should’ve been all along. I returned Sams hug with a laugh and smile. “Hey, Sam.” He let me go and the two of us of us walked to the War Room while Dean went to the kitchen to grab beers for the three of us.

“How was Florida?” Dean asked, opening the beer bottles and passing it to his brother and me.

“It was great, although I was supposed to use this as time off, I worked two cases, both vampires. But afterward, I didn’t really do much.” I played with a rubber ring that was on the table. I told them about all the places I’d gone and _some_ of the things I’d done, evidently leaving a few things out, and tried to include as much information I could without bringing up the fact that I met someone

The beer in Deans mouth sprayed out and his brother froze with wide eyes before he could raise his.

"You what?" Dean sat up, leaning towards me. "What? I what?” I asked, hoping I didn’t do what I was just trying to avoid doing. “You met someone? When was this?” Both brothers stared at me, waiting for an answer.

“Oh- he uh- it was nothing serious. Just a fling. We were done the moment he asked me out." I spoke nonchalantly, but in reality, it broke my heart to say it that way. Though, I technically wasn’t lying. Eric was supposed to be nothing more than a distraction but things didn’t go as I would’ve liked them to.

They leaned back in their chairs and let out a breath of relief. The two exchanged looks before Sam cleared his throat, "So that's done, over with?" he asked, eyebrow raised as he placed his bottle on the map covered table and let the condensed water drip onto it. I sighed, trying to seem unfazed by the topic.

"Yeah. It is." An awkward silence filled the Bunker and I held up a finger as I stood from the chair, “Music? I think we need music.” and with that comment, I ran to my room to grab a record to put on the turntable. Both looked at me with amusement when the first notes of Air Supply’s All Out of Love filled the empty air and I mentally facepalmed at the irony of the track. Before I let the conversation about Florida spark again, I directed the attention to Sam.

“So what’s new with you? Still hunting or did _you_ meet someone, again?” Though this question was meant to sincerely ask if anything was new, I couldn’t help but let the words slip out of my mouth and bring up past events out of spite. In summary, when Dean, Cas, _and_ Kevin disappeared without a trace, Sam and I were left with nothing, not even a clue to where they were, we didn’t know where to start.

Sam gave up searching before we could even begin. Reason? He met a girl and left me in the dirt so he could go and live a normal life with her. In my time of solitude, I didn’t sleep, I hurt myself for not being able to find them, and drank until I couldn’t remember the day before. As I’ve stated once before, I have no idea as to how I am still alive after that.

The slight venom in my voice was evidently overlooked or ignored as he answered. “Um… no. Nothing's new really… I’ve-we've been great, hunting and stuff...” He took a sip of his beer, making little eye contact.

 

+++

At some point during the night, Sam’s eyes shone a bright blue and I grew curious as to if they’d ever done that before. I stood to dance and the two followed as Metallica began to pour out of the old speaker. I used one of the discarded glass bottles as a microphone as Dean used one as a guitar while Sam danced like a drunk girl at the club. All problems were drowned in the booze and company of each other.

 

+++

As one of the songs ended, Sam stretched his long body, ruffling his hair and stated he was heading off to bed. He kissed my head and patted his brother’s shoulder before disappearing into the hallway. Elvis Presley’s _Wonder of You_ began to play and I looked down, smiling at the realization.

“Why does this song always play when it’s just us?” I laughed. Dean tuned into the song, recognition played on his face. “That's not true.” He crossed his arms, “Yeah it is. It played the first time we hung out at some restaurant, on the phone while you were out taking care of the third trial, and some other times I can’t pinpoint. Oh and now.”

“Okay, okay, you made your point. I guess it does.” Neither of us dared to interrupt the song to speak again even as Dean walked up to me and held a hand out to dance. I pursed my lips before taking his hand. As he placed my hands in position, he began to sing the words under his breath and rocked us slowly. I giggled as he spun and pulled my body into his which brought us closer than before.

I pulled back slowly to decrease the already large amount of butterflies in my stomach. Before I was lost in the thought of him, I cleared my throat, “How have you been? and no bull crap this time.” I asked. He looked down to meet my gaze, “I’m better now,” he said smiling, silently gesturing to us. “Dean, I’m being serious.” I laughed before I pushed him away as I tried to influence my seriousness.

“So am I.” He slouched his shoulders, decreasing the boldness of his being. “For a guy who hates chick flick moments, you sure are sappy.” I jumped onto the table and folded my hands in my lap as he moved to lean his back on the bookcase across from me and crossed his muscular arms over his chest.

“Alright fine…” He sucked in a breath before speaking, “For the first time in awhile, things are okay and I don’t know how long it’s going to last. Don’t get me wrong, I’m freakin’ ecstatic that everyone’s up and at em, but I don’t want us to bite off more than we can chew. Like Sam, he’s been trying to jump back into hunting like he wasn’t just in a coma.”

“I’m sure if something's _really_ wrong, he’ll tell us, just like he eventually did with the trials. But, I meant you, Dean. Is there anything you need to get off your chest?” He looked at the ground, and I could tell he was contemplating something. He huffed out a sigh.,“Other than being worried about my brother, I’m great. You’re back, Sam’s alive, and Charlie’s most likely banging a storybook character, things are looking up for us.”

Once again he avoided the underlying truth that I could see right through. The room was radio silent and I didn’t even remember hearing the music stop until then. In the blink of an eye, Dean was away from the bookshelf and was standing in between my dangling legs, scanning my face for a long moment. In an instant, he was holding my face and bringing me closer.

My breath hitched in my throat as he leaned down and kissed me roughly. As I closed my eyes to respond to his kiss he was gone in a flash, back on the bookcase, looking at me as he was waiting for a response. I looked at my hands, rushing my words, “Sounds good. Look, it’s pretty late. I should um- I should be heading to bed.”

"Oh. Okay. Goodnight, Britt." I must have blocked everything else after that because the next thing I knew, I was in my room with my forehead pressed against the closed door. My skin tingled and my heart beat erratically in my chest so hard that I thought it was going to explode. There were butterflies - no, lions - in my chest, but it felt good.

I finally admitted to myself what I knew all along, but was too afraid to admit it: I liked him. A lot. And I wanted to be with him.


	17. Back to the Basics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Ghosts  
> Episode: 9x07

**Britt’s POV**

A knock on my door woke me up and I fell out of the bed rushing to it. I pulled myself up and walked to open it to see a more than cheerful Sam waiting. He was dressed for the day and was surprised by my state of sleepiness. “What?” I squinted,

“Uh, we’ve got a case but I'm sure you want to stay and- drool,” He reached his hand out to wipe off some drool on the side of my chin. I scolded him as he wiped the drool from his thumb onto his jeans, “I’ll be out in 10.” I closed the door as he walked away. During the past few weeks, I'd been re-adjusting to life with the brothers. Ever since I stopped acting like a stuck up princess with daddy issues, I realized how much I really enjoyed being with them. 

Both Sam and Dean were open to me ever since I meant them but it wasn’t till now that I paid attention. I noticed and learned things about them that I was too clouded in the mind to care about before. Sam was a huge nerd and loved reading even when we didn’t have a case and Dean, his whole charade was Hans Solo with a love for the cowboy movies and Dr.Sexy MD because he has “sensible shoes”. I felt more like them than just having dead parents and the unbearable need to hunt. Knowing I stuck around just to hold onto the memory of Bobby made me realize how cold hearted of a person I was towards them. And because I’m still here with them today, they must have seen right through it before I knew myself that it was an act.

The fantasies of Dean came in dreams but there were times when I would daydream and they would bleed into reality. Just the other day while he was making breakfast, the scene played out that I wrapped my arms around him and he turned around and lifted me onto the metal counter and stepped between my legs while kissing me senselessly. In reality, I just walked in and sat at the table and greeted him with a light-hearted smile. 

Once I was satisfied with what I packed, I laced up my boots, grabbed my duffle and walked to the library to meet up with the boys. Both were checking their weapons on the table and when I placed my bag on a chair, Sam looked up and gave a smile before continuing to check his weapons. Dean, on the other hand, kept to himself without a word or glance my way. I chose to ignore it and picked my bag back up, slouching it over my shoulder and walked away.

  
  
  


**Sam’s POV**

I waited until I heard a door shut before speaking, “What was that all about?” Dean ignored me and continued to check his knifes and load guns. I finished organizing my bag and put all my attention towards him.

“Dude,” He rolled his eyes subtly before huffing a response, “Nothing.” 

“That didn’t seem like nothing.” I pressed, he dropped whatever it was in his hands into the bag in defeat. “It was nothing, okay? Are you done ‘cause I am,” He zipped his bag close and hoisted the strap onto his shoulder. There was no denial that my brother had issues but the feelings he had for Britt were never a contributing factor and I noticed that after he confessed but the silent treatment towards her was odd.

  
As we walked into the garage, Britt was in her 69’ Camaro blasting music with the windows up.  _ Barracuda  _ by Heart was playing so loudly you could hear it from outside the car. We made eye contact and I nodded my head towards the Impala. Seconds later the music stopped and the driver side door swung open and slammed. Maybe she and Dean fought without my knowledge or she was giving him a taste of his own medicine.

This was gonna be fun.

 

+++

**Britt’s POV**

After hours on the road to get to Hurleyville, New York, we pulled up to our destination. A sign reading, “Sonny’s Home for Boys” hung on a pole connected to an old fence and my eyes grew wide as I realized I had no idea what we were getting into. The Impala slowed to a stop on a dirt road between a few farm fields and a house. 

I got out of the car as the two started talking amongst themselves, still inside. I examined the two-story house and caught a young boy with glasses holding onto an action figure in the upstairs window watching us. I flashed him a smile and couldn’t tell if he mirrored it before turning away and leaving. The brothers finally got out of the car, still carrying on their conversation. 

“-none of this was dad’s fault.” It must have been a light conversation because both carried on as if it never happened. I reached for Sam’s arm, “Are we undercover?” he laughed under his breath and looked at the house. 

“No cover. Dean’s old friend knows what we do and thinks a death on the farm was done by something under our profession.” I nodded, “Okay.” 

We walked up to the doorstep and knocked. A middle-aged woman with a large cross on a necklace answered. She crossed her arms as she examined the brothers, stone-faced, as she noticed me, a lick of her guard lowered.  “Hi,” Dean said, 

“What can I do for Y'all?” She asked, skipping the formalities. I scanned the perimeter as I tuned out their brief conversation. Sam smacked my arm to bring me back to reality. “Shoes. Off.” My eyebrows laced together in confusion. I watched the two peel off their shoes and I did the same when I realized they were serious.

Sam whispered to Dean, “Sonny’s an ex-con, huh?” 

“What, and were such angels? Trust me, he’s more than made up for it.” We walked through the front door and a man with long hair pulled back into a ponytail and wearing glasses greeted Dean cheerfully. “Dee-dog!”

“Sonny! Good to see you.” Dean flashed his million-dollar smile that seemed genuine. “Hey, you, too, brother.” As Sam and I stood behind watching the two hug, we exchanged glances. He and Sonny must have made eye contact because he let go of Dean and greeted him. 

“Oh, and this must be Sam.” He held out a hand to shake and Sam took it. “Good to meet you,” Sam said, “Back at you, brother. And you,” He turned to me, looking between Dean and I. “And who might you be, miss?” I cleared my throat before speaking, afraid a high pitch tone of uncertainty would come out. “Britt. I’m a close friend of Sam and Deans.”

I felt like I could trust this man as Dean said before but I didn’t have the same connection he did. “Oh, of course. Any friend of Dean’s is a friend of mine.” He smiled, turning back to Dean. I nudged Sam, nodding towards the woman that let us in who was wiping a table close by. He noticed what I meant and called Sonny, “Hey, Sonny, uh, do you-you mind of we talk alone?”

Sonny turned to the woman, Ruth, and asked for her to check on the boys living in the house. After Sonny changed his ways, he opened this home for delinquent kids who needed to work and reflect to become better kids, mostly if there was no one for them to go back to. Sonny told us about the incident that led us here: An old tractor found its way on and ran over one of the older guys that worked on the farm, Jack. At first, I thought the tractor would have slipped out of park and Sam vocalized it before I could and we were told that wasn’t the case. 

“You know, I never- I never believed any of this mumbo-jumbo stuff Y'all are into, but… something ain’t right.” Sonny shook his head in disbelief. “What do you mean?” I asked. He looked up as if he couldn’t believe what he was about to explain. “Well, just… things started happening- you know, lights flickering on and off, strange scratching sounds coming from inside the walls, windows, and doors slamming.”

Ghost. All of the happenings Sonny described resembled almost an exact synopsis of a haunting. Dean and Sonny talked a bit before the older man left the room. Dean turned to Sam, “All right. Why don’t you take the house? I’ll check out the barn.” I looked around for the kid I saw in the window earlier, thinking he’d know something but when I didn’t see him at first glance, I kept a mental note to find him.

The oldest Winchester walked to the front door and opened it as if he were waiting for me to join him. I scoffed and turned to walk up the stairs and the front door slammed seconds later. Dean was not going to ignore me and expect me to work with him like nothing happened all in the same day. But what can I say, that’s how pre-Obake Britt and Dean were: always at each other's necks or complete silence (mostly on my part).

After checking rooms opposite of Sam and not finding anything, I walked towards the window to look at the area. The kid from earlier ran out of the barn and moments later Dean walked out as well. I guess he beat me to getting insight from the kid. I left the room to meet up with Sam when he was rushing through rooms, “Britt?!” I rushed to him and pointed my gun but put it down when he held his hands up in surrender. 

“We’ve got a body to burn.”


	18. Back to the Basics Pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of affairs, murder, death. Ghosts  
> Episode: Cont of the last chapter

Howard Wasserlauf, ex-owner of the farm Sonny now owned, was the ghost on our “to kill” list. When he was alive, Howard heard a rumor that his wife and Jack were getting it on behind his back, which wasn't true. In his attack, Jack got away but Doreen suffered the consequences. Howard killed her with a meat cleaver and in staying vengeful after death, his ghost killed Jack which is what lead us to this place in the first place.

We dug up his corpse from his grave and burned it. We were now seated at a table in a restaurant Dean insisted on going to. He’d been smiling the whole time since we walked in. 

“Is it really necessary to drag us to this place when we could just pick up some food on the way home?” Dean ignored my question, keeping his glance on anything but me. Sam looked over the menu and huffed, “Dean, you know we’re just fine grabbing a burger-to-go somewhere, right?” his brother peeled his eyes away from whatever they were on to address his brother. “What, and miss out on the best banana pancakes you ever had?” He asked. 

A waitress came to take our orders and Dean could not keep his eyes off of her. “Hi. Welcome to Cus’s. What can I get Y'all?” Before I could tell my order, Dean butt in, smiling insinuatingly, “Bet you never thought you’d see me here, huh?”  _ Oh boy, here we go.  _ She just stared at him, 

“Uh, look, I’m a little bit slammed right now. Do you guys want to hear the specials?” I almost cracked a laugh at Deans failed attempt at wooing yet another woman, but his expression showed hopefulness, which made me push down my feelings.

“Robin… Dean Winchester.”  _ Oh wow, he used his real name.  _ “I used to live up at Sonny’s.” She seemed completely clueless but she must have meant something to him because he wouldn't have put his name out there like that. 

Turns out, Robin didn’t remember him and that must have upset Dean because we were out the door before she could come back from speaking to someone to take our orders. “Wh- What was that?” Sam asked, following his brother to the car. “Nothing,” Dean replied quickly. “Nothing? That seems to be the answer of the day, Dean. Obviously, it was something. Who was that waitress?” As much as I would have wanted to join this bicker session, I let it go. 

“I said it was nothing, all right? Drop it.” Deans phone rang and he picked it up. “Sonny.” His face flushed with horror, “What?!”

 

+++

Ruth was dead and we were back to square one with this hunt. After investigating for new clues, a kid was shredded and another was terrified from watching the other. While looking through files to see anything about the kids, I found a file on the kid from the window, Timmy. “Whoa. Sam, check this out.” Sam walked over and read the file. 

Timmy was found in an abandoned building about a year ago, alone. No one knew how long he’d been there. He kept running from Child Services so as of recently, Sonny took him in. 

Dean walked in and I took the file back from Sam. “Kid’s gonna need about 8,000 stitches, but he’ll be fine.” Dean directed to his brother. I huffed a breath, trying to piece the case together as Sam told him what we found. Nothing made any sense, wouldn’t things have started as soon as he got here?

“All right, so hard-ass counselors, bullies, all bite the dust, but Timmy’s still standing. So, what are we talking? We got ourselves a Damien on our hands?” Dean asked, walking over to the table I spread everything out on, Sam turning to join. “No. EMF rules out a demon. So… probably ghost possession.” I tilted my head in consideration, “Maybe, but who would possess this kid and why?” the two stayed quiet, looking at the laid out information.

“So what I’m hearing is, we find Timmy and shove a fistful of salt down his throat, forced ejection?” Dean asked. I grabbed all the papers spread on the table, piling them together. “It’ll have to do,” I said. 

Dean sighed and pointed to his brother, “You’re taking the barn this time.” I pulled out a salt pouch from my jacket pocket and threw one at Dean. “Alright, Sam lets go.” I brushed past the two to walk out the room. Dean gripped my arm to stop me and I turned with a jolt. “Not happening. You’re staying in the house with me in case the kid comes in.” I ripped my arm from his hold, “I’m checking the perimeter to catch him before he can get in the house, he has a lot more to kill us with in here. I’ll be fine. Sam, let's go.” I walked out the door before he could say anything else.

I never knew what went through Dean’s mind, ever, and I didn't know if that's what kept me so intrigued or not. Oh and that little scene at the restaurant? Happened almost every time we went out. He hits on a girl, gets with her for a night and proves to me that the connection between us is completely one-sided and I am left trying to convince myself that my feelings aren’t true themselves, just simply overwhelming.

Outside, Sam checked the barn and I searched the areas around the house where Timmy might have been hanging out. Yelling inside made me call out to Sam as I ran towards the entrance. As I slowed, I saw Dean and Robin holding hands calmly through the window. I lowered my adrenaline and heard Sam stop next to me. “What? What hap- oh…” He stopped himself as he followed my gaze at the window. 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” I said blankly. I wasn't sure if Sam understood the double meaning in the statement but even if he did, it wouldn’t have mattered. Movement inside made us run in. “Go!” Dean yelled. We turned to the door but it slammed shut before we could get to it. While Robin was freaking out, Dean went to the kitchen to grab a box of salt and tossed it to his brother. “Circle.”

“Dean, what-what just happened in there?” Robin asked shakily. Other than you too having eye-sex? “Stay in the circle! ” I spoke sternly, earning a warning look from the younger Winchester. I rolled my eyes and slowly made my way towards Timmy who was gripping his action figure tightly. “I can’t control her.

“Can’t control who?” Dean and I asked simultaneously. Sam stepped forward and put the box of salt down. “Your mom, right?” Sam continued, “Timmy, listen. We need you to tell us about the fire, okay?”

With a shaky voice, Timmy spoke, “It was late, and we were driving home when we crashed in the woods. Everything was on fire. But she saved me, pushed me out... Before the car blew up... with her in it.” My heart dropped to my stomach. “But that’s not all, was it?” Sam asked. “I ran through the woods. I found an empty building, where I hid. I was scared. It was dark and cold. So I cried. I cried for my mom. And then she came.” I kneeled in front of Timmy as he finished his story. 

“But she was different, wasn’t she?” I asked, “I’ll bet she gave you that cool action figure, huh?” Dean added, meeting my distance from Timmy but still standing. “Yeah, when I turned nine.” 

Behind him, a woman with blonde hair and horribly burned skin flickered in the kitchen. “Timmy… I’m gonna need that action figure.” Before the boy could pass the toy to Sam, the spirit threw Sam against the wall and I scrambled to my feet, grabbing an iron fire poker from beside the fireplace and tossing one to Dean. We swung at the woman at the same time and she dissipated. Dean grabbed the toy from Timmy’s hand and threw it in the oven, turning the gas burner on. 

“No!” Timmy yelled, watching the last thing he had of his mom burn. I grabbed him from running after it and put him in the salt circle with Robin and she held him close to her. A wind blew through a window and broke the protection of the circle. “Come on, seriously?” I whined with a sour face. 

“It looks like it wasn't the action figure that was anchoring her here, Dean,” Sam said wearily, panic in his voice rising. “Then what is it?!” Dean yelled, “Him.” I said unbelievably, looking at Timmy. 

“You know what? I think maybe his mom can’t let go and she’s still protecting him from the grave.” Sam said, walking towards his brother. “Well yeah, she died protecting him. He was lost and crying for her.” I stated as if it was obvious. “Maybe she doesn’t know what threats are real and what’s not, so she just attacks all of them.” Sam continued.

“Great. So, what, unless we waste the kid, were sitting ducks?” Dean rushed, giving up on options. “We're not doing that,” I growled. Robin let go of Timmy in panic, “This is- this is crazy.”

“Robin.” Dean tried. She stepped out of what was left of the salt and bolted for the door. “Robin! Damn it.” He followed after her and in amazement as all the things that could go wrong was going wrong a  _ son of a bitch  _ found its way into the air to no one in particular. I walked to where Sam and Timmy were, Sam kneeling in front of him. 

“Listen to me. I need you to focus, okay?” He spoke sternly. The ghost of Timmy’s mom appeared behind him and I crept to grab the iron poker so she wouldn’t notice. “Look, we are not here to hurt you.” As I gripped the handle of the poker like a bat, the ghost threw Sam backward before I could swing and when I did, she dissipated once again but came back quicker than before and threw me at a wall as well. I groaned in pain and as soon as Dean walked through the door with Robin trailing behind, he had the same fate.

Timmy’s mom clenched her fist and both brothers began to groan. “I can’t stop her,” Timmy yelled. “Timmy, you have to try!” Dean croaked. “She came to you when you cried out for her. Now you have to tell her to stop and go away!” Timmy looked at the people in the room, scared. I crawled next to him, getting his attention. “She’s my mom.” 

“Hey, sweetie. She’s not your mom anymore, okay? She’s going crazy because she cant move on. You’re so strong. You’ll be okay.” Sam gasping in pain made me turn to him in worry. “Listen to me. Sometimes you’ve got to do what’s best for you, even if its gonna hurt the ones you love.” Dean strained. Timmy adjusted his glasses, stood up, and said in a shaky voice, “Mommy… stop it.” She turned to him, seeing me and clenched her fist towards me, my throat tightened. I held my throat and tried to relieve the pressure. “You’re not his mother!” She yelled. 

“Timmy, Kung Fu grip!” a blurred voice yelled. The room began to darken and I coughed repeatedly, gasping for air. “Mommy, stop it! Stop hurting people!” another voice. I gasped as the tension relieved and Timmy’s mom moved towards him, holding her arms out to him. “You have to go. Never come back. I’ll be okay. I promise.

The ghostly essence of his mom peeled off and she almost looked human. She smiled tearfully at him. “I love you, too,” Timmy said and his mother faded away completely. He ran to Dean who hugged him. I gasped in a large breath of air as I tried re-adjusting to having oxygen in my lungs. Robin came into the room as Dean pat Timmy on the back. 

 

+++

**Dean’s POV**

“So, then, this is… the family business?” Robin asked, smiling at its absurdness. This was the woman I fell in love with years ago. I never thought I’d see her again and I was hoping I wouldn’t have to because of how badly I must have hurt her. My dad found me in this boys home the night of the school dance I was supposed to take her to and instead of fighting it, I left with him, no goodbye.

“Told you it was boring.” I smiled and she laughed. “Yeah, right.” 

“Well, as you can see, I did not run off to become a rockstar.” Unfortunately, that dream was always laid to rest to fight the shadows of the night. Being here at Sonny’s was the best shot of a normal life when I was a kid and it was great, no, amazing, while it lasted. “Mm… I don’t know about that. You look pretty rockin’ to me, Dean Winchester.”

I laughed under my breath. “And what about you?” I asked, “I mean, I always thought that I would hate being in the same little town my whole life, and, you know, taking over the diner like Dad always wanted, but ... I don't. I just – I love it.” My eyebrow raised in amusement, that’s one of the last things I thought I’d ever hear her say. She was always scared of being stuck here. 

“I guess we didn't know everything we thought we did at 16, huh?” I looked over at Britt and smiled a little as she hugged Timmy. Robin followed my gaze, “So, that’s what your heart is set on nowadays.” I peeled myself away, “No, no. That’s never gonna happen.” I looked back over trying to shake the thought out but there my gaze remained once again. I thought that if I dialed down our normal interactions, she would get out of my head but it wasn’t working and I didn't know what else to do.

“Because you won’t let it. Dean, you look at her like you used to look at me. So much love, care… give it a chance. You might like the results.” Oh if only she knew I couldn’t do that. I turned to Robin, lightly smiling. She kissed my cheek and walked up the porch steps.

  
  


**Britt’s POV**

“Hey, Timmy, how are you holding up?” I asked, squatting to his level. “I’ll be okay, remember?” he smirked. He leaned in and squeezed me into a hug almost knocking me over from the amount of force he threw. I made eye contact with Dean by the Impala with Robin and sent him a small smile.  

“I’m sorry for making her come back,” Timmy spoke into my shoulder. “Oh, no no no. Sweetheart, the only people we can make do anything is ourselves. Your mom wanted to make sure nothing bad ever happened to you and when she passed, she didn’t pass all the way to make sure she did just that.” I pulled away and ruffled his hair as Robin walked up the porch steps. 

She stood behind Timmy and placed her hands on his shoulders. I took one last look at him before standing and wiping my hands on my jeans. “Hey, um, I’m sorry if I seemed… on edge in there. I just wanted to make sure nothing happened to the kid.” I was about to turn my heel to leave when Robin rushed, “Wait.”

I turned, “I know that wasn’t just about, Timmy.” I almost turned back around to leave but I didn’t want to seem ruder than I already had been. “A piece of me wanted to believe that what Dean said in there, about doing what’s best even if it hurt loved ones, was about me. And maybe a piece of it was, but knowing him as I did, without all this- hunting stuff, I know when he’s concealing things, especially his feelings… Just- don’t be too hard on yourself, or him.” she smiled.

“Britt,” Sam called. “Um, take care of him, and yourself.” I turned and hopped down the steps and into the car. As Dean started the Impala, the engine roared to life and I leaned my head on the window eventually falling asleep with a smile ghosting my lips as I thought about what Robin said. 


	19. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: major/minor character death(s) (depends on how you look at it)  
> Episode: 9x09 Holy Terror  
> Britt isn't too involved with the war going on involving heaven and instead of writing her into EVERY EPISODE and trying to make it as if I wrote the show, she's a minor character for parallel chapters to episodes. MAJOR for this book but minor when it comes to the side by sides.

**Britts POV**

On pulling into the garage after the ghost hunt at the boys home, Sam took caution in waking me up as I’d grown a tendency to attack at the slightest touch. In suddenly waking up from a door slam, I sat up breathing heavily and saw Dean walking away from the car through the window. I turned to see Sam behind me, eyeing his brother in frustration. 

After that night, Dean and I were stretched on getting back to our “normal” relationship. He hadn’t apologized or explained himself for the silent treatment but from what I could tell, I shouldn’t have been expecting one anytime soon.

I walked down the hallway and stopped at a door, knocking lightly. Kevin swung the door open and looked as if he hadn’t slept in days. He had been trying to translate the angel tablet into English but it was easy to tell that he was under a lot of stress. 

“Hey, Kev, are you-you know what, nevermind. You seem busy.” I turned my heel slightly to leave but he stopped me.   
  
“No, no. I’m good, did you need something?” I debated before turning to face him again. “Um, yeah. C-can I come in?” He stepped to the side, showing me into his room. Sticky notes covered in an ancient symbolic language decorated the walls and random pieces of paper with similar markings were scattered on the floor. I crossed my arms, holding myself as the door closed and tried to read the symbols to ease my mind. 

  
“Do you think there is something going on with Sam and Dean?” I asked, still looking at the notes on the wall. “More than usual?” He stood waiting for a laugh or a smile on my part but when it didn’t come, he cleared his throat. 

“I don’t think so, why?” I turned towards him, pointing at the wall, “What is this, it’s not Enochian.”

“Britt. Talk.” I dropped my hands and huffed out a breath. “Okay, it's not so much Sam-” Kevin interrupted. “Oh no, no. Not another Dean intervention. I am done trying to get it through your thick head that you’re in your own way. Both of you.” 

“No, god, Kevin, no. This is not about that. I think Deans hiding something.” I speculated. “What makes you say that?” He asked.

“We may not be one hundred percent back to our, I don’t know if you would call it “normal” relationship, but ever since I came back he's been snappier than usual and treats Sam like he's broken-” My phone vibrated in my pocket. Jason’s name displayed on the screen and I hesitated before pressing the green button.

Kevin stood with his arms crossed and I excused myself, “Hello?” 

“No time for small talk. I need to tell you something about Eric. He's not- ” The bell chiming in his office cut his words, making me listen in. “He's- oh, good evening sir, I didn't think I’d see you until later…” Commotion echoed loudly through the phone and a scream pierced my ear. My voice caught in my throat at the pictures in my mind about what was happening.

There was movement on the line and heavy breathing filled my ears. “When I find you, I will kill you. Do you understand, Hunter?”

I hung up quickly and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I walked back into Kevin’s room and he was sitting on his bed, looking at his hands. “Wrong number.” I smiled. 

He looked up and I sat next to him on the bed. “Kevin, I need you to find out what Dean’s hiding. He won't talk to me.” He heaved out a sigh, “This could just be you being paranoid again. I'm sure nothing’s going on, Dean’s just being Dean.” I huffed and walked out of the room, leaving the door opened behind me. 

The metal door of the bunker sounded in the distance as I flung my door room shut.

 

+++

Kevin, Dean and I were seated at the table in the library, researching after Dean received a call from Castiel. Dean was on his laptop, I was reading the library’s lore and Kevin was hands-on with the Angel tablet. “Dean, there may be nothing in here. Crowley said the spell that cast down Angels was irreversible.” Kevin sighed,

“Yeah, well, screw Crowley.” Dean sassily responded. I smiled to myself at his mistrust of Demons, more specifically, Crowley. “Why would you think that anything he says is true?” I tapped my pen in Deans direction, silently praising his question while still reading through lore. 

Kevin continued to read through the tablet, “This part is nearly indecipherable. Almost like, when Metatron wrote it down, he wanted to keep the words hidden, even from Prophets.” I  and Sam walked in, “Hey.” 

“Hey.” Dean started, “Check this out. Another Angel attack.” He continued. “What? Where?” Sam asked as I I listened in. The civil war between angels had grown more intense and apparently, the boys ran into Castiel at a crime scene recently. Ever since they got back, Kevin had been more focused on trying to decipher the tablet and Dean had been even weirder than usual.

“Utah.  A, uh, college, uh, Bible-study group and their, uh, their guest speaker – some top-shelf church lady. Insides scorched out, kids' eyes were missing, but, not the church lady's.” Dean said, reading off of the screen. “So, she was an Angel, too?” Sam asked. I zoned out and continued to read as they exchanged more information about another crime that I knew I wasn’t going to help solve.

 

+++

After dozing off doing research with Kevin, I woke up when a book forcefully slammed on the table beside me. I quickly sat up and brushed a hand through my hair. Kevin laughed under his breath, “We need a spell. ASAP.” I groaned, stretching my body in the chair. “We always need a spell. For what?” 

  
Kevin passed me a few more angel books and sat across from me, ancient tablet in hand. “Dean wants to be able to talk to the human of an angels vessel so they can expel them or get information from the vessel.” I squinted, “So talk to the host without the Angel listening in? That should be easy.” I said sarcastically as I opened the first page of the book. 

Hours later Dean came back and Kevin and I found a sigil that might work. Kevin talked to Dean about it in hushed tones as I put the books away. “You told me theoretically. Dean, we just painted sigils in the storeroom. What the hell?”

“You're gonna have to trust me, okay, trust that I told you everything I can for now. Can you do that?” Dean said to Kevin. I walked up as the two finished up, “I always trust you. And I always end up screwed.” he wasn't wrong. 

“Oh, come on. Always?” Both Kevin and I nodded simultaneously, “Not always.” Dean said in defeat. I followed Dean as he walked off. “Hey, Dean, I need to talk to you.” He continued to walk, “Can it wait for later?” I stopped walking, letting him go. “There might not be a later,” I muttered once he was out of sight as I grew worried about what he’d gotten himself into.

 

+++

In the library, Kevin and I were arguing over which supernatural creature was the most useless when Sam walked in. Kevin asked about Dean, and Sam, in a weird tone said not to worry, that he was fine. What happened next could only be described as the murder of two people I would’ve done anything for.

Dean rounded the corner as Sam help Kevin head with one hand. Kevin began to scream and a white light flooded out of his eyes. As I rushed forward Dean yelled, “No!” as he charged at Sam. Sam pinned both Dean and me against a wall with his magic, opposite to each other. Tears began to fall faster than they were able to build and I couldn’t look anywhere but at Kevin’s lifeless body on the floor.

“There is no more Sam.” whatever it was in Sam said, “But, I played him convincingly, I thought.” I kept my eyes glued to Kevin even as tears began to blur my vision. Everything was white noise and it wasn’t until “Sam” placed a yellow card on Kevin’s chest, took the angel tablet and walked out. The magic pinning Dean and I to the walls faded soon after and I dropped to the floor, burying my face in my knees. 


	20. Old Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Depression, self-harm, guilt, stubbornness, mentions of character death.  
> EPISODE: 9x10-9x12

**Britt’s POV**

Dean and I took care of Kevin and gave him a hunter’s funeral. Neither one of us dared to say a word as the flames overlapped each other and engulfed Kevin’s body. I stayed until the last flame died out and walked straight to my room once it was over. I felt a tingling sensation in my fingers and the need to do something I had vowed to stop many years ago.

“Britt,” A deep voice and knock on my door interrupted the silent cries and agony I’d sunken myself into. I closed my swiss blade and threw it randomly as I searched for a bandana to wrap my wounds under.

I swung the door open, expecting Dean but when I was eye to collarbone with Castiel I was taken by surprise. “C-Cas? What are you doing here?” My voice cracked and I hid my dripping arm behind my back. “Dean told me to check up on you,” he answered and walked into the room, eyes digging into my soul.

I walked backward, trying to put as much distance as I could between the ex-angel and I. “I heard about Kevin... my condolences.” I wiped off a fresh tear that had fallen onto my cheek and sniffled a thanks, trying to get him to leave without being rude.

“Are you alright?” he asked, blue eyes scanning my body. I pulled my sleeve down further in fear that he could somehow still sense the wounds. “I’ll be fine. I’d really just like to be alone right now.” my forearm hit the wall before my back and I hissed in pain under my breath.

“I can feel you’re hurting, Britt. Show me your arm.” Cas held his hand out and I tried to sink further into the wall to disappear. He slowly pulled my arm from behind me and pulled the sleeve back. I avoided eye-contact and fought to fight the tears from falling as he unraveled the bandana. “What did you do?” he asked.

I pulled myself from his hold and held my head in my hands as the blood dripped off my elbow and I let the tears continue to fall. Cas didn’t say a word as he walked me to my bed. He silently asked for the wounded arm and ran the palm of his hand over the cuts from my forearm to my wrist. A bright light emitted as he healed them and I looked up in shock, tears falling every now and again, “You have your grace back?” Cas nodded slightly and my fresh smile died before it was born again. He put a finger under my chin, lifting my head to meet his gaze. “Why?”

I felt the urge to fight it and play it off as if I was okay but I couldn’t lie to him. One, he would know because he was an angel again and two, I couldn’t pretend like I was okay when no part of me was.

“It should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one burning at that funeral. I should’ve been the one that died today. It should’ve been me. I-I just stood there and Dean-” My focus shifted and I grew furious, “-Dean,” Cas must have sensed it because before I could stand up to give the hunter a piece of my mind, Cas was in front of me.

“No. Dean had good intentions. He was given false information, it’s not his fault. What I don't understand yet is why he didn't tell you about it…” Wouldn't we both like to know.

 

+++

Dean and Cas left the Bunker with Crowley who apparently was in our dungeon and as soon as they left, I hopped in my car to drive to a motel. I couldn’t be in that Bunker without seeing Kevin everywhere and wanting to rip everything out of its place and destroy it.

The first few nights in the motel were pure alcohol consumption, then I continued to hurt myself. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't care. Both Kevin and Sam were dead, two people I cared about more than anything. And just like that, they were gone.

A knock on the door sounded as I walked out of the motel bathroom after I wrapped my forearm from its newest wounds. I grabbed my gun and cocked it as I opened the door. My eyes grew wide, “Eric?!” He rushed inside and covered my mouth, I held my gun to the side of his head as he held a finger to his lips. He rushed over to the TV and turned it on, increasing the volume and I pointed my gun at him as he turned around to face me.

“Speak. Now.” He held his hands up. “I need your help.” I kept the gun up.

“What are you? How did you find me?” I rambled with questions. Eric walked closer and grabbed my gun, pointing it to the floor slowly. “Calm down. I’m still me.” I boiled in anger, “ Calm down?! Jason dies trying to tell me something about you, and here you are out of nowhere! I’m not calming down till you tell me what you are.” his eyes widened, “Jason’s dead?”

I blinked in confusion, “Yeah. he is. Did you not do that?” He walked off, running a hand through his hair. “No, I wouldn’t kill him. Oh, god.” He turned back around,

“Remember when I was telling you about my dad. That he wanted me to be just like him? Well, when he found out about my newest distraction,” he gestured to me, “He thought that killing you would be the start on the path of evil.” I leaned against the counter, crossing my arms.

“How did you find me?” Eric moved towards me, “I went through Jason’s phone at dinner the other day and booked a flight as soon as I could.” I tried to piece things together in my mind. He didn’t react to anything, what could he possibly be that I missed. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” I warned.

“I’m a Phoenix, Britt.” He flung his hands as if he was trying to get it out since he walked through the door.

“Wait, I never told you my real name. You knew?” Eric looked down in guilt. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t put a bullet through your skull.” he looked up, expecting me to be joking. “Well, unless its the colt or iron, I don’t think it’ll do much good.”

I shot him in the stomach and he doubled over in pain. “That’s for lying to me.” I yanked him up and stuck my fingers in his wound to pull out the iron bullet, “And that’s for not confronting me about knowing who I was.” He put his hand over his wound and it healed in a matter of seconds.

“Now what are you here for, again?” Eric heaved a breath and walked to the sink to wash his hands. “I said I needed your help,” He sneered. Recognition played but I still didn't know what it had to do with me.

My phone rang and Deans caller ID flashed across the screen. I pressed the red button and threw it towards the bed. Eric’s eyes followed, “Trouble in paradise?” I glared at him and pulled out a seat at the kitchen table, sitting in it and ignoring his comment as I slouched over the table.

“I need your help in finding the Colt. The same Colt that killed my grandfather, Elias Finch.” I sat up, “Elias Finch was your grandfather?” Eric nodded. Elias Finch was a Phoenix the brothers went back in time to kill to get his ashes to save the world. From what I understood, Elias had no children, But I guess he had a son who grew up to have Eric. “I want to use it to kill my dad.”

My phone rung again in the distance. “One moment,” I ran to grab it and pressed the green button. “Britt, are you okay? Cas sensed something off.” Dean asked in worry. “I’m fine. Look, I have a question, completely off topic but do you know where the colt is?” There were hushed whispers and violent yells in the background, no doubt they were on a hunt. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Dean asked.

I huffed, “Do you know where it is or not, Dean.” he ultimately said no after minutes of bickering and I hung up. Eric looked hopeful but that hope was lost when I told him we had no luck in finding it. “Is there anything else that would work?” He asked. I grabbed my computer, “I’ll look for something,”

 

+++

Within a few days and out of all the information I could find, all signs pointed to the Colt and something called the “first blade”. I didn’t read too much into it considering it had to do with Cain as in Cain and Abel who had probably been dead forever now. I hadn’t slept much, not with a phoenix in the room and Eric had been acting like a completely different person then I’d originally known. He didn’t seem too worried about his father’s threat to kill me that I subtly mentioned in our first few hours stuck together.

“Do you love him?” Eric asked out of the blue as he stood in front of the stove, making soup. I shook the question out of my head as if it was never asked. He continued, “Dean Winchester,” I stopped reading whatever article I found and looked at the keyboard of the laptop. “It doesn’t matter,” I said softly.

“I’d be careful if I were you. Everyone around him has a death wi-” before he could finish his statement, his back was against the counter as I held a blade to his throat. “I would suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.” The corner of his mouth raised to a smirk. “Enjoying the rendezvous of our first date?”

I scoffed and walked off, throwing my computer into my bag and grabbing my keys off of the bed. “And where are you going?” He asked expectingly. I ignored him and continued to walk out. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he said unconvincingly. I stopped my movements. and reached into my bag, throwing the box with his necklace inside at him.

“That means nothing to me, take it back,” I stated coldly, hurt at the side of him he’d revealed since he got here. “Well, how could it? You used me to get over him.” I clenched my fist and felt the cuts underneath the bandana open. Eric did the same and a warm red emitted from it, he was containing himself.

“You used me to make up for all of the blood on your hands, all the people you couldn’t save,” Eric said cockily. “Screw you,” I spat, walking towards the door. I opened the door and was met with a man in his forties wearing a green golf hat and black leather jacket. “Hello, Hunter.”

I backed away and my back clashed with Eric's chest. “Took you long enough,” He said darkly. Before I could fight my way out I was grabbed and carried to a chair to be tied up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAAAAT I AM SHOOKETH  
> WHO WROTE THIS TRASH!?- oh wait. that would be me. My bad.


	21. Conflicted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Violence, fluff, sadness, mentions of character death, sacrifices (Let me know if there is more I should put)  
> EPISODE: after 9x12 but before 9x13

I was tortured for days, maybe weeks and a migraine had been coming every other day from the number of times I was knocked upside the head. “Everything is falling into place.” A voice snickered. I tried to lift my head up but let it fall because of how weak I felt. I was unable to move and when I was able to wiggle a little, I felt nothing but pain from my forearm spread up my arm. The brightness of the outside pierced through the curtains and into my eyes and I groaned at the uncomfortable light. 

“Have her call the Winchesters, they’ll witness her death before suffering their own.” The man patted Eric’s shoulder and walked towards the table and zipped open my duffle, examining them. Once I felt enough strength, I lifted my head up and the man at the table walked towards me. “I think we’re done with the torture. It’s about time we had a talk. I’m Edward Finch, the son of-” I groaned,

“-son of Elias Finch. Got it.” Edward raised his hand and smacked it across my face, “You show me some respect, child.” I hissed as the smell of burning flesh filled my lungs. Eric stood by the wall, arms crossed as he seemed to have not cared what his father did to me. “Leave us,” Edward ordered and Eric walked out, slamming the door behind him. 

“It was the perfect plan. As soon as word got out to monsters that a hunter was in town everyone wanted their opportunity at you but there was something I learned that made you even more of a target: you were in ties with a Winchester. Not only was it easy to manipulate you but it was damn near easy to find you again.” He circled me and placed his hand on my shoulder, burning the skin. I couldn’t help but let a yell out. 

“Once the Winchesters come for you, you will die, they will know what it feels like to lose someone they love and then they themselves will die...” He spaced out, smiling as he imagined the looks on their faces. “...then my son and I will kill them and burn the world without having to worry about anyone.” He walked towards the door and knocked twice, Eric walked in seconds later. 

“It’s time,” Edward ordered. Eric took my phone out his pocket and chose a number, most likely Deans, and held it to my ear. He picked up almost instantly,

“Man am I glad to get a call from you. Sam and I were just on a werewolf case with Garth and we’re driving home now.” Dean answered. “Hey, yeah sorry about that, I’ve just kinda been stuck in a funky town, any chance you could come help me out?” There was movement on the line, “Where are you?” He asked firmly. “South of where you most likely are it's the third motel you see, room 27B,” I asked nonchalantly. “We’re on our way.” I looked at Eric and he hung up the phone. 

Edward was out of sight, most likely outside smoking a cigarette as Eric once told me he was addicted to doing, even in serious times. “Eric, you don’t have to do this. If what you told me was true, that you want to be nothing like your dad, I can help you.” Eric laughed. “You can barely help yourself, look at you. If I didn’t come you’d probably still be cutting yourself and self-loathing. Why do you do that anyway? Was it because of that guy you burned the other day?” I clenched my jaw at the mention of Kevin and fought my restraints.

It was obvious to tell that he wanted to take back every word as they flew out but the damage was already done. This wasn’t someone that wanted to kill, he wanted to travel, try every coffee in the world, love as any other person would… but now he really was just like his father. Conflicted or not.

“How do you know about that?” I spat. “I followed the chip in the necklace. The signal disappeared for a while but when it popped up again I found your exact location and there you were, standing in front of the fire with  _ him _ .”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. Yeah, I used you but we agreed not to get attached. rust me when I say that killing me won’t fill that pain. ”Eric's shoulders closed in as his back was towards me. He straightened back up as the door opened, “Is she filling your head up with fantasies son?” Edward asked, walking towards the sink, “Get ready,”

The sound of the Impala’s engine radiated outside and the door was kicked open seconds later. “Ah, Sam and Dean Winchester, you haven’t aged a day.” Sam moved to untie me but stepped back when Eric stood in his way, a fire ignited in his hand. “I’m sorry, have we met?” Dean asked, pointing his gun at Edward.

“Not officially, no. You killed my father, Elias Finch, Phoenix.” Dean glanced to the side as if he was remembering, “Ah, Finch. Black leather, cowboy kind of dude, horrible shot, yeah I remember him. So this is a revenge thing or what?” He asked sassily. “Basically. She dies before your eyes as I did with my father and then I kill you both.” Edward explained as he touched my skin softly. 

“This is extra sweet because word on the street is, you two are a thing,” he gestured between Dean and I. “And Eric here was just a distraction, from you!” He pointed at Dean angrily.

“Just kill me and get it over with,” I said, earning an alarmed look from all four men. “Oh please, I’ve done my research on you. You haven’t done anything to make these two life’s any easier. You’re not a Winchester, you don’t matter. So killing you might not even affect them, but you made my life easier by bringing them here.” I clenched my jaw, hurt by his words even though they were true. 

“Father, you know she means something to them. Killing her will put that hole in them that Grandfathers death put in you. Leave them with that.” Eric said suggestively, walking towards his father. Edward barked quickly, “I will not let these two go on after what they’ve done!” Both walked to a corner and talked amongst themselves for a moment before Eric came towards me, untying me.

I stood up after the ropes were untied and stopped myself from punching either Finch in the face. “Five minutes to say your goodbyes outside. I’ll let you two live but if you make any motions to leave, all three of you get a bullet in your head.” Sam walked towards the door and held it open for me. I walked out with Dean trailing behind me. I punched a pole as soon as one was available, “Dammit!” 

I hissed at the blood starting to peak from my knuckles but moved to punch Dean in the face anyways. Sam grabbed me and put distance between us. I wiggled out of his hold and punched him in the face, angry at the sight of him. “Don’t touch me.” He stepped back a little, hurt looming in his eyes.

“The angel is out, okay? Look, you can hate me all you want but we’ve got angry phoenixes inside and we need a way out of this.” I clutched my hand from the pain radiating and held my forearm close, too scarred by the memory of that day to tell if it was really him or not.

“There is a way out, for you. Find Abbadon and Metatron and kill them. Don’t make any deals, don’t try and bring me back.” Both looked at me as if they couldn’t believe the word flowing out of my mouth.

“What? He was right and you know it.” I confessed, throwing my arms out as tears threatened to fall. I let my head fall and Dean stepped towards me, “Britt, you were a Winchester the moment you agreed to stick with us. You’ve been the thing that’s kept us going… That’s kept  _ me _ going.” His finger lifted my chin and a few tears slipped out of the corners of my eyes. “Britt, I can’t do this without you. You, Cas, my brother, you’re all I have.”

I finally looked into his eyes and as soon as his pierced into my hazel ones, I couldn’t find the words to say goodbye. I knew he didn’t return the feelings I held for him, but I couldn’t resist. Whether or not it was my time to die then I wanted, no, needed him to know exactly how I felt at this very moment. I stood on the balls of my feet and kissed him as the world fell away. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that my words could never be. He didn’t react at first but once he did, his hand raised and rested on my neck just below my ear. His thumb caressed my cheekbone as our lips locked and I could feel the beating of his heart against my chest. 

I pulled away slowly, afraid anything too quick would ruin this moment. “You two are incredible,” Sam announced and I laughed lightly as I placed my forehead on Dean’s chest, embarrassed. Seems like it really was just Sam.

The door to my motel room opened and Eric’s head popped out, “Its time,” he said with a strain in his voice. I looked back at Dean, fear tinting in my eyes but nothing but pure anger in his, “We’ll see each other again,” I whispered before walking away and towards Sam. “No, you can’t possibly be considering this.” He shook his head in disbelief. 

“If it keeps you two alive then yes, I’m doing it. Now hug me before I go.” My words left a sour taste in my mouth and Sam stepped closer to pull me into a hug. I tried to savor the moment but nothing about this was something I wanted to remember. 

I let go and made my way towards the door. Dean tried going after me but Sam held him back as he tried to fight it. Hesitating, I looked back at the brothers while a tear slipped and walked into the motel.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way, but killing you would leave them devastated, especially after that little confession session.” Edward walked closer to me, taking off his leather gloves. Eric opened the curtains to reveal Sam holding Dean back from running in and killing himself. 

Eric walked over and stood behind me. I felt a cold metal slide in my hand and I looked back at Eric while he kept his eyes firmly on his father. “This will only hurt for a second or two,” Edward said, striking a flame in his hand. I gripped the blade and slashed his hand just as it reached my throat, slightly burning me. 

He groaned in pain and I kicked him back, slashing him across the chest and punching him in the face. He fell onto the floor and smoke was almost coming out of his ears as he looked up at me. The door burst open and Dean stabbed Edward before he could launch himself at me. Eric shielded me away as his father burst into flames and I felt heat in his hands as he held me.

I peeled myself away and a plea for forgiveness was written in his expression. I didn’t know whether it was another trick or not but I didn’t have time to consider it because a blade poking through his stomach sealed his fate for me. His body fell to the floor as the blade was ripped out and Dean stood behind him with bloodthirst in his eyes as he looked over the body bursting into flames.

“He helped me,” I whispered as the flame turned to ash. I stepped towards Dean whose arm was shaking as he held the jaw-shaped blade. “Dean put it down.” Sam said shakily. He kept his eyes on Eric’s ashes with anger and it wasn’t until his brother repeated himself that he snapped out of the trance. 

Dean blinked, shaking out whatever was in his head and I grabbed my bag, drained of energy. “Let’s go home.”


	22. Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Angst, Violence, blood, fluff, smut  
> EPISODE: Before 9x13, intro to 9x13

In the few days that passed, none of us spoke of the Phoenix incident again and nor did the topic of Dean and me ever surface. Both brothers kept their distance and I didn't know if it was because we were all a mess about Kevin or because we didn’t know what else to say. Things were awkward when we were all in the same room together and to be fairly honest, I was scared. I felt like I messed up with both of them: Dean, because of that stupid kiss and Sam because I knew he thought I blamed him for Kevin but I was too clouded to tell him otherwise.

Grief felt like an abyss of emptiness where every attempt to make things better went in one ear and out the other. Ever since Eric came around and spoke so viciously of my pain, nothing but a wave of anger had set in and trying to keep it under wraps was difficult.

On my way to the firing range in the Bunker days later, I clashed with a body and almost fell out of clumsiness. I looked up at the tall figure and was taken aback to see Sam.

“Hey, h-how are you feeling?” I asked as I recomposed myself. “Um, I'm alright. Tired, to say the least… You?” He combed a hand through his hair, probably weary of this conversation as much as I was. “I'll live,” I responded with a slight smile. Sam returned the gesture and maneuvered himself around me to walk away. With our backs now facing each other, I closed my eyes and let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. My fists balled to stop myself from doing any harm, but my brain had other plans.

“Did you know…?” A sense of firmness laced through my voice and I heard Sam’s footsteps come to a stop. “...about the angel?” He asked and for the 3rd time today the image of evil played in my mind. The silence confirmed his question, “No.” He answered sadly and the footsteps continued down the hall.

I turned the corner, into the room and pulled my gun from the back of my pants to load it with the practice rounds. Once it was loaded, I shot inattentively at the target and let my frustrations out on the paper at the end of the room. After moments of calmly shooting, I gripped the gun tighter and shot more viciously. A hot tear ran down my face and a yell I’d been holding in for what felt like forever echoed throughout the room. I threw the gun at nothing specifically and punched the cement wall till the flesh of at least 3 knuckles exposed themselves. I held myself up against the wall but gave into the shaky feeling in my legs and slid down the wall I punched senselessly. I brought my knees to my chest and cried openly, not caring who heard it.

I kept blaming myself for Kevin’s death even though there was no possible way I could’ve known it was going to happen. Being tortured for weeks after he died felt right like I deserved it. Why couldn’t the Phoenixes have finished the job without the boys there?

“Hey, Britt, look at me please.” I looked up with tear stained, puffy eyes and was met with crystal green eyes looming over my every feature. Sam approached the door frame but slowly crept away after a few moments. Dean stood and held out his hands for me to take. Once he pulled me to my feet his eyes locked on my knuckles and my gaze followed. There was blood dripping and bruising I hadn’t taken the time to feel so the sight of it shocked me a little.

Dean didn’t say a word, he only wiped a tear off of my cheek and led me to his room which was the closest room to us other than Sams. I sat on the bed as Dean pulled up the rolly chair from his desk and sat in front of me and placed the first aid kit beside me.

The silence was poison to us, the lack of words exchanged left more room for assumptions and sour thoughts. I watched his jaw clench as he stitched the knuckles that had split open. It was easy to tell his concentration on it was to push his mind away from a more sensitive topic: me.

“I never meant for any of this to happen,” He started, cutting the leftover stitch wire from one of my knuckles on my right hand. “I wanted to tell you the moment it happened but Gadreel was gonna leave Sams body and let him die if I told you. I couldn’t take that chance and I take full responsibility. For all of this.”

I stayed quiet and let my head hang low. “And I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. I should’ve known something was wrong when I didn’t hear from you-”

“-Dean stop,” I whispered. Dean shut his mouth completely and paused as he was reaching for the gauze wrap. He slowly grabbed it and started to wrap my hand and said nothing “You were trying to save your brother so you kept it a secret, I get it.” I hissed as he placed the last wrap tightly on top of my most bruised knuckle, “Sorry.” he rushed, tending to it more gingerly after.

“All this time I assumed you hid it because you didn’t trust me or- I don’t know… I thought you knew about Gadreel being evil and I blamed you. And instead of drilling you for an explanation I just went straight to rage and anger and that wasn’t fair to you or Sam.” Dean held onto my hand even though he finished aiding to it and his other hand raised and placed itself underneath my chin to bring my head up from its low position.

I knew what I was doing to myself was not the first time I’d done it nor was it the first time Dean had witnessed it first hand but it was moments like this where all the bad I let myself marinate in faded away and for a moment, I’m me again. The hunting world was not a place for loved ones but that rule was thrown out the window every second I was in a motel with the brothers or stuck in the Impala for hours on end and definitely after I moved into the Bunker. I loved them and there was no denying it. So what if monsters knew we were each other’s weakness? So what if they used us to get to the other? Because it seemed to me like every time they’d try to bring us down and tear us apart, it only brought us closer.

Dean’s eyes flickered down to my lips and back to my eyes in a quick motion and I grew weary of what would happen if the inevitable gave in. I hoped the moment wasn’t imagined like it had been many times before. He moved his head closer and I sat frozen with both fear and excitement. Our breaths shook in sync and I closed my eyes as Dean gently leaned in and kissed my warm lips. We pulled apart and took shaky, shallow breaths.

The moment I knew it was real, we couldn’t contain ourselves anymore, Dean held my head in his hands and pulled me into a fiery and passionate kiss. I followed his pull and raised from the bed to sit on his lap with my legs on either side of him. Dean peeled off my green flannel followed by my shirt and threw it to places unknown and I did the same to him. With a laugh, he lifted me right off my feet and laid me slowly onto the bed. He held himself up with the palms of his hands and we pulled apart.

Fear played deeply in both of our eyes. “What are you thinking about?” he whispered. I was thinking about everything: what happens after this, how much everything will change if this was really something I wanted to risk just to lose it one day. Everything.

“Change...” I whispered as I reached my hand up to his cheek, tracing it to his bottom lip. “...what happens after this.” His eyes never left mine. “What do you want to happen after this?” He asked. Knowing Dean for as long as I have, I knew we were alike in many ways. We shared fears, anger, passions…

“To prove ourselves wrong.”

And with that, Dean leaned in and kissed me, hard. I closed my eyes and let the feeling of him clear my mind from anger, Kevin, and everything that could go wrong with us being together. I made myself think about him, that moment, us. After doing so, it became much easier to invest all of me in that moment.

Dean placed soft kisses down my neck to my chest and back up. Despite the pain in my hands, I let them trace every curve in his perfect body. I brought his lips back to mine and kissed him, trying to rid the thoughts in my head. As we kissed I rolled him over and lied on top of his strong, muscular body. He sat up and raised his shirt off his body, resuming the kiss as soon as possible. I laid him back down and ran my lips up his neck and placed a loving and intense kiss on his lips.

And well… you know the rest.

 

+++

We laid under the covers and Dean rubbed my shoulder absentmindedly as I cuddled into his exposed chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. “Will it ever get easier?” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “I don’t know. We’ve been so used to isolating ourselves that we haven't really tried a less toxic way to deal with it.” I lifted my head off of his chest and looked up at him, he turned his head towards me.

“We’ll figure it out eventually,” I whispered despite the minimal distance between us. He leaned down and gave me a long kiss, looking lovingly into my eyes when he pulled away. “Till then I’ll find a way to distract myself,” he joked and leaned back in.

I lifted myself off of him, letting the connection last but when it broke, Dean groaned for leaving his touch. I put on my clothes that were scattered all over the place and Dean did the same. He rolled the sleeves of his red flannel up and I walked up to him, grabbing his right arm.

“I didn’t want to ruin the moment earlier but, this looks familiar. What is it?” Dean looked down and a challenging look played in his features before he answered. “The Mark of Cain.” I tried to place the title with its form and I repeated the name under my breath as I tried to dig into my memory. I stepped back once I realized what it was.

“Why do you have one of the most dangerous brands created by God himself on your arm?” I asked in disbelief and hoping he had a damn good answer. “It’s the only thing that can help me kill Abaddon.” The mention of her name left a bad feeling in my stomach, especially now that it leads Dean to take on such evil.

“I’ll be fine, Britt. I always am.” He tried to reason, but the feeling in the pit of my stomach still resonated with worry. “If anything goes sideways I’ll just isolate myself from the world like Cain did, become a farmer or something…” He smiled. I huffed a sigh and placed the palm of my hand on his cheek.

“Will you tell me when something’s off? When anything doesn’t feel right?” I asked. “Nothing about this feels right, Britt, but it’s the only thing that will work against Abaddon.” He looked deeply into my eyes, trying to make me see this as he does. The memory of Kevin dying flashed in my mind after trusting everything was fine and I tried to shove it away. I trusted Dean with my life and more but I needed to know he wouldn’t hide anything from me anymore.

“I trust you,” I whispered as I pressed his lips to mine and walked out of the room.

 

+++

I closed the metal door with my foot as my hands were occupied with two bags of food and a case of beer. When I didn’t see the brothers in the library, I walked to the kitchen to put everything down. “Guys, I got us, Big Bur- oh, perfect, you’re already here.” Dean turned in his seat with a smile on his face and Sam walked up to me and took the case of beer from my hands.

“Remind me not to drive while my hands are screwed.” I laughed half-heartedly. The whole time I was out, everyone stared at me like I was going to box anyone of them if they said the wrong thing.

I peeled my grey jacket off and passed Sam his bag with his usual load of healthy food inside and Dean ours with the exact opposite. I ordered Sam a Cobb Salad and chicken noodle soup, Dean a Western Bacon Burger with BBQ which was an obvious distinction between his brother's healthy choices. For myself, I ordered a waffle fry stacker. It was a regular burger with two layers of waffle fries and more waffle fries on the side.

“There are two slices of pies in that bag. Do _not_ eat mine.” Dean’s eyes lit up as he pulled out his slice of pie after passing me my food. Dean had told me that he and his brother weren’t on the best of terms and even as of right now, Sam didn’t consider Dean his brother anymore.

We ate together as if everything was normal for once which was kind of weird. We exchanged laughs and talked about meaningless that if were said in public would make people either think we were horror game fanatics or want to call the cops for murder.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Dean opened his laptop and slid it towards me. “We’ve got a case.” I read the articles and rummaged through the details. “Okay, competitive eater died after a hot dog contest…” I read nonchalantly but then it got more interesting. “...he shrunk from 300 to 90 pounds in the minimal time he was last seen? Well alrighty then. What are we thinking, witch?”

“Generally yeah,” Sam said. I took a bite of my last waffle fry, savoring the flavor and gave the laptop back to Dean. “Alright, let’s get to work.”


	23. Normal Jobs Pt.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Fluff, Sadness (idk what else)  
> EPISODE: 9x13

All three of us were at the police station waiting for information from Sheriff Donna Hanscum. She walked over with a big smile and two reports. She was slightly on the bigger side and had her blonde hair in a cute bun. She handed one of the filed reports to Sam. “Thanks for your patience, agents. Coroner's report finally came in.”

Sam flipped through the pages in the file and both Dean and I looked at the photos and information with him. “All right, thank you. All right, let's see. Did Wayne McNutt really weigh 300 pounds just moments before time of death?” He asked. “316 to be exact.” Sheriff Donna leaned in as if it were secret. She had an accent but from where I couldn’t tell yet.

“And the official cause of death?” I asked, straightening my blazer out and crossing my legs as we leaned against a desk.

Sheriff Donna turned towards me, “Cardiac arrest. But between you and me, that's just a guess. The vic suffered massive organ damage.” She turned and walked away, handing a woman at a desk the other file then walked over to the coffee maker and poured herself a cup.

“Ruptured spleen, pierced liver, collapsed lung. Looked like everything was just,” she made a suction noise, “sucked right out of him.”

“Like he'd been hoovered?” Dean asked. Sam flatlined his lips at his brother's comment and I choked down a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, you know, I got to be honest, -” She took out a powdered donut out of a white box and silently offered us one. Dean happily walked over and grabbed one for himself. As much as I would’ve loved one, I’ve learned that black clothes and powdered donuts don’t mix, plus we had a case to solve.

The Sheriff continued, “-We're stumped. This type of thing just doesn't happen in Stillwater.” She took a big bite of her powdered donut and it covered her mouth and black tie with the white powdered sugar and I had to clear my throat from revert my attention to the case and not the powder continuously falling onto her tie.

Sam shifted his focus down to the file in his hand and back up to the Sheriff. “Now, did Wayne have any enemies?” Sheriff Donna almost finished chewing before she answered, “Hmm. More like an unfriendly rivalry.”

Now it was Deans turn to have white powder covering his lips and chin. I tried my hardest to keep my focus on Donna but both faces made it hard to turn attention away from the other.

“A guy named "Slim Jim" Morgan. Like Wayne, he was pretty well-known in the competitive-eatin' circuit.” Wisconsin. Her accent was majorly laced with Wisconsin and after I figured that out, I couldn’t stop thinking about it when she spoke.

I nudged Sam in the arm and he turned his attention from the Sheriff to me and I jutted my chin towards his brother which he snapped his head towards. He tried to subtlety motion Dean to wipe his face and he wiped the side of his mouth with a napkin and took off exactly none of the donut powder. Both Sam and I tried to focus on the Sheriff.

“Competitive-eating circuit? Is that a big thing out here?” Sam asked. “Oh, yeah. You betcha. Folks take it real seriously- train for months. Eat all sorts of wackadoo stuff, you know, like, uh... Baked beans, buff wings, butter.” and just like that, I felt like I needed 40 pounds of salad to get the image of extensive butter consumption out of my head. “Butter?” I asked, “Yeah. Sometimes deep-fried.” Now not only did I feel like I needed a dramatic amount of salad, I rethought everything deep fried I’d eaten in the last, well, ever.

Dean made a sound of approval as he took another huge bite of his donut, spreading more powder everywhere. Sheriff Donna continued to talk about the competitive eating contest and that our victim, Wayne McNut was the only one Slim Jim couldn’t beat in any competitions.

“So is he a suspect?” Dean asked, waving the remaining piece of his donut as he spoke. “We checked him out, but Slim Jim was in the Hot Doggery at the time of Wayne's death, and we got 15 witnesses to prove it.” She directed at Dean. “Really?” He asked in disbelief.

“Yah.” Both Dean and the Sheriff exchanged looks and then took simultaneous bites of their donuts and chewed contently.

When Sam stayed behind in the station for a few, Dean and I waited in the Impala for him. I tried to tell Dean about the donut powder on his mouth but instead of looking in the rearview mirror to clean it, he would just look at me and smile. I laughed and licked my thumb to clean the powder off his lips but he stopped my movement and brought me into a kiss, rubbing the powder onto my face.

 

+++

At Slim Jim Morgan’s house, he was eating a bowl of lettuce, not a salad, just plain bowl of lettuce as I was walking around the living room while Sam and Dean were asking him questions. I stumbled upon a shelf full of spell jars and funnily shaped boxes. Dean must have either been eyeing me or monitoring the room as I was because we noticed it at the same time.

“This is interesting,” we said simultaneously. Slim Jim swallowed a mouthful of lettuce before answering. To say that I didn’t believe that this man was in the competitive eating circuit was a vast understatement. They didn't call him "slim Jim" for nothing. He had to be no more than 30 with black hair touching the bottom of his ears and practically the shape of a slim Jim.

“Mala’s good-luck charms.” He answered. “And Mala is…?” I asked, looking at the strange boxes. This Mala could’ve been the witch we were looking for.  

“My old lady.” He said, taking another bite of his salad. Once again I found myself asking, how he managed to stay so small? As much as I would love to keep watching him devour lettuce, people were dying and I couldn't be more jealous at the fact he had food which I needed soon.

“Is your old lady superstitious?” Dean asked,

“Yah. She’s Romanichal.” I stepped away from the shelf of possible witchcraft and straightened out my blazer as I made my way back to stand with the three. Confusion played on Dean’s face, “Romanichal?”

“Gypsy.” Sam translated. Slim Jim quickly input, “But don't call her that. She says it's reductive. But I think it's a compliment. I mean, gypsies are all the rage on TV: _My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding,_ _Gypsy Sisters… Keeping up with the Kardashians._ ” Knowing I didn’t watch as much TV as I thought I did, the mention of these show names (besides the Kardashians) didn’t ring a bell nor did they probably do the possible dark magic displayed on the shelf.

I looked at Sam and nodded to the other room for him to check out. “Um-  you mind if I use your bathroom?” He asked. “Yeah, go ahead. But use the one upstairs at the back. Mala's taking a shower in ours.” Sam walked out of the room and I stood in his place. I felt a slight pain in my ankle and silently cursed myself for accidentally grabbing the wrong pair of heels.

"Did you really lose the- wiener winner by one dog?" Dean asked. Slim Jim flat lined his lips and nodded, "yeah." 

I playfully scoffed, "Children,"

Dean ignored the comment if he had heard it all all and kept going. "So what are we talkin', 6 inches, foot long?"

“Look, agents. Am I a suspect here or what? ‘Cause unless you got a warrant-” Slim Jim was cut off by Sam clearing his throat, “You, uh, ready to go?” I nodded and looked at the shelf once again, trying to memorize the symbols in case we needed it.

“Yeah. Uh, Mr. Morgan, thank you for your time. If you remember anything else, this is our number and where we're staying locally.” Dean slapped his card on the radio and we walked out of the house. Sam opened the rear door for me and Dean went to the trunk. As he sat in the front seat, he handed me a pair of flats.

“H-how did you know?” I asked, taking the shoes from his hold and quickly switching out of my heels. “Trust me, the moment I saw those heels in your bag I grabbed the other ones knowing that those are a pain in the ass. You’re welcome.” I sighed happily with the loss of pressure in my feet and Dean stole a glance through the rearview mirror.

“So Sam, what’d you find?” I asked resting my chin on my hand on the front booth seat. Sam reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out a hex bag. Dean quickly looked over while he was driving. “Of course.”

 

+++

In the motel, we dissected the hex bag and inside was the usual gross and abnormal stuff. Sam and Dean were seated at the table by the window and I sat on the bed with my computer. Sam was on his for information on what we found in the hex bag and I used mine to hack the local police scanner to keep an eye out for new victims that were killed like Wayne McNut was.

“All right, so, we got what appears to be Wayne McNut's hair and... a bag full of weird.” I looked over to Dean who had the hex bag in front of him and scrunched my face at the grossness. He shuttered dramatically and I laughed a little. “In Romanichal culture, the pouch is called a putsi bag. It's used for hexes.” Sam read from his computer.

“Okay, so, what? Mala's putting hexes on hubby's competition?” Both Sam and I shrugged at Deans analysis. “Slim Jim might not even know,” Sam said more as a question than a statement.

The police scanner played in the one earphone I had on but I pulled it out when a knock on the door sounded. Dean stood from his chair, drew his gun, held it towards the door and looked through the peephole. He opened the door and there stood a young looking woman with red tips at the end of her black hair. She had eyebrow length bangs and light makeup.

“Hi.” Dean forced. “I believe you have something of mine.” she smiled. I pointed to the dissected hex bag on the table. “You mean that?” A forced smile stretched on my lips. She stepped into the room and followed my point. Her eyes widened in shock, “Why would you do that?!”

“Why would you kill Wayne McNut?” I retorted. Her face twisted into an almost confused, shocked expression. She walked to a chair in front of the two beds and sat herself down. All color looked like it flushed out of her as she looked at the floor. “Get her some water,” I said to no one in particular.

I sat on the bed and crossed my arms over my chest. Dean passed Mala a glass of water and took a seat next to me. She shakily chugged it down before speaking. “Kill Wayne? I loved him!” I opened my mouth to say something but Sam cleared his throat before I could get anything out. “So… you were…” He stretched awkwardly.

“Yes. Okay? We were having an affair- for years, actually.” I let my harsh guard down but a strong one remained. Witches have no soft place in my heart, not after everything. So even if she was innocent, she was still a witch and that never means any good.

“I don't mean to be rude, uh... But how is it that Wayne McNut is your type? I mean, you're married to a man who's barely a buck- wet.” Dean asked. Mala looked at him seriously, leaning in a little. “What can I say? Sometimes it’s nice to feel a little give.”

“Oh yeah, I get that. A little extra cushion for the, uh…” Dean glanced at his brother who was shooting him a bitch face look and I smacked him upside the head. He awkwardly stopped talking and I cleared my throat, trying to revert the topic.

“So Mala, you loved Wayne. Why put a curse on him if you were invested in the affair?” Mala recomposed herself after Deans comment and looked at me. “It wasn't a curse. Putsi bags are also used for blessings. I wanted Wayne to win. Plan was, take the prize money, get a quickie divorce, and then tie the knot in Orlando.” I internally shuttered at the mention of Orlando. I would never think of the place the same.  

“Wayne used to call me his "Princess Jasmine.” She said quietly. I lightly smiled at her love for Wayne and felt bad. Mala wasn’t a witch, she was in love and trying to help out but someone or something killed her lover.

After we were done talking to Mala, I escorted her out and she was on her way. Back inside, both Sam and Dean were in their plain t-shirts and baggy PJ pants. I grabbed baggy pants and a spaghetti strap from my duffle and changed in the bathroom. When I stepped out, both brothers were seated at the table by the window talking. I threw my skirt and dress shirt in my duffle and Dean walked over, placing a hand on my back.

“You can take the bed if you want, I can sleep on the floor or something.” I turned to face him. “No, I’m not making you sleep on the floor. Take the bed. I’ll join you in a few.” Dean kissed my forehead, “Not too late.” he whispered and I simply smiled as he walked to bed. Sam was already in his and we all exchanged goodnights before turning the lamps off.

I sat at the table with my laptop and plugged in earphones to listen to music but I couldn’t find myself to listen to my normal playlist. 12 o’clock morphed into one and then two. After sitting for hours researching and looking for a distraction, I found myself opening up the camera roll and selecting one of the untitled albums. Pictures and videos of me and Kevin flooded the screen and I inhaled softly.

“Healthy,” I said to myself, “healthy.” I let one of the videos play and as soon as I heard his voice I felt myself tear up. I surprised him on his birthday with a birthday cake while he was staying at Garth’s houseboat and we spent the whole time eating it by ourselves and putting frosting on each other's faces. I paused the video on a frame of him smiling and I let my hand lift to the screen as a tear fell.

A hand laid on my shoulder and I flinched at the touch but didn’t move to detach it. Another hand reached for the laptop screen and slowly closed it. I pulled the wire of my earphone so it fell out of its place and the hand removed itself. The chair in front of me moved and the moonlight through the thin curtains revealed Sam’s large figure as he sat down.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked. I ran my hand through my hair and glanced at Dean’s sleeping figure to make sure he was still asleep. “Uh, no. Haven’t been able to get much of it after-”

“-Yeah, me neither.” I looked back at Sam. His hair was tousled and nothing like it was before bed. Dark circles caved in his eyes and I wondered if mines looked the same after staring at a dark screen for hours in the dark. “What’s your diagnosis?” I asked, crossing my arms and placing them on the table.

Sam exhaled sharply and looked at his brother. “I know it wasn’t me but every time I close my eyes… it’s my hold he was under. Not Gadreel’s, mine. I would’ve rather died in that church than live with this-this image in my head. I- I mean, some nights are better than others but I want just want it to stop.”

I uncrossed my arms and placed a hand on top of his fiddling folded ones. We exchanged reassuring smiles before I broke the silence. “How do you do it?”

“I- I don’t. I just accept it and move on.” Accept it and move on. I didn’t know how to do that healthily, or at least his meaning of healthy. My “accepting” is killing he who is responsible, which would mean an angry investigation and going ballistic when things didn’t go right. Speaking of revenge kills, I never saw the demon that possessed my dad that night again, but if I did sometime soon, I’d probably thank him and buy him a drink. Maybe more.

“So are we just going to ignore the fact that you two are a couple and failed to mention it?” I raised an eyebrow at Sam as he jutted his chit towards Dean. “I’m still trying to wrap it around my head myself.” Dean snoring made us laugh under our breaths. “Well, I guess we should join him.” Sam declared as he stood up from his seat. I smiled at Dean’s sleeping figure then looked at the clock.

“Yeah, I guess we should.”

Sam laid himself in his bed and seconds later, and it seemed as if he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow I moved the cover a bit from Dean’s bed to get underneath it and Dean pulled me into his arms and against his chest, never opening his eyes. He kissed my forehead and for the first time in days, I slept peacefully.


	24. Normal Jobs Pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Violence, Blood, fluff, mentions of death, (Let me know if there's anything else)  
> Episode: 9x13  
> This is the longest chapter I've ever done... RIP

Overnight another victim was killed at a gym and we were at the crime scene later that morning. I slept so well the night before that when I woke up, I thought it was the afternoon. While Sam was speaking to an officer and Dean was standing over the body, I was asking around for sheriff Donna Hanscum. Apparently, she was on vacation for the rest of the week. Lucky her.

I made my way back to the boys as they just finished talking with an officer. “No sign of the Sheriff. Apparently, she’s-”

“Vacation. yeah, we heard.” I glanced at the body, “Okay, so we’ve got another body with all the fat ripped out and there’s nothing in common with the first vic other than the death pattern?” We closed in on the body and they crouched down while I remained standing due to the pencil skirt that would either ride up or rip completely from the action.

“Check this out.” Dean lifted up her shirt a little and a large circular mark peaked from underneath. “What is that? A birthmark?” He asked. “Well, either that or she was into that kinda stuff…” Both brothers turned their heads slowly, standing up and the smile I’d worn so proudly quickly disappeared, “What?”

Sam cleared his throat and we refocused on the topic as we walked into the gym. “The weight had to come off somehow, right? What if it's a suction mark?” A fat substitute vampire came to mind but those didn’t exist, nor did their bites look like huge hickies. “A suction mark? Okay. Uh, changeling?”

“No, they only go after kids and neither of these two were or had any.” We stayed silent as my statement left no other monster we knew of left. “And we don't know if Wayne McNut had a suction mark.” Dean implied. “Unless we missed it,” Sam added. Both were right but whatever was killing these people had to have been quick if no one saw it. No ordinary monster would’ve done this. At least not one I’d ever heard of. Dean seemed occupied in the mind at the moment so both Sam and I turned around and followed his gaze and were met with a skinny blonde with a nice figure talking to one of the officials.

“Yeah. Well, we should, uh, split up. You know, to hit the morgue and the other should stay here and question the staff.” He said as we all looked at her and she noticed us watching. “I'll stay,” Sam said, turning back towards his brother.

Dean kept his eyes by the blonde, “Ain't gonna happen.” he said. I turned around and crossed my arms. “And why is that?” I challenged, raising an eyebrow. Dean immediately peeled his stare away from her and looked at me.

“Uh- Because he’s weird around girls.” He tried. Dean always, and I mean always, spoke to the hot women and got a little something out of it. Now that we were together (kinda), I didn’t have to deal with wondering if he hit it or not because he knew I would a) punch him in the face and b) stab her in hers.

“What does that mean, weird?” Sam asked, offended by his brother's excuse. “You're awkward. You know, weird- Sam Weird.” Sam scoffed and looked at me as if his brother was serious. “Sorry, man. I'm just... being honest.” Before we could protest anymore, Dean was walking away and towards the blonde.

Sam and I just watched as he walked away. “Do you think he’s gonna-”

“No. He wouldn’t do that. Especially not to you.” And with that, we were on our way.

At the morgue, Wayne was injured pretty badly and just as we expected, a suction mark was right under his hairline, just like the other victim. Back at the motel, Dean was sitting on the bed with his back to the headboard and a laptop on his lap when Sam and I walked in. Sam filled him in on what we found and I removed my blazer and unbuttoned the buttons at my wrists, rolling up the sleeves.

Dean said that the hot trainer also had a mark and I didn't know whether this was a good thing or not. She was skinny and alive, not flesh and dead.

“When I asked her about the mark, she, uh- she clammed up, got all embarrassed. So, uh, I did some checking. And it turns out that she took a couple of "me" days last month and went here.” Dean turned the laptop around so we could see it and a website ad for a day spa called Canyon Valley was displayed.

“Canyon Valley?” Sam asked, sitting on his bed. Dean played the promotional video and mid-tempo music played while a woman talked about her spa and the weight loss program that will give guaranteed results in one week. When it finished, I was sitting next to Dean on the bed and throwing my shoes towards my duffle.

“How far away is that place?” Sam asked. “Couple of hours away.” I groaned and flung myself back, laying on Deans thighs. Both chuckled and Sam got up to change into his casual clothes. Dean started to move from under me and just when I thought he was going to get up, he leaned down led a lengthy kiss until I pushed him off to change.

 

+++

On our way to Canyon Valley, I called to ask about jobs available and luckily, we were allowed a walk in interview. The woman from the video and her husband sat in front of us and asked us a few questions.

“We were really, really moved by the online testimonials,” Sam said, flashing a smile. “Oh, yeah. That was some powerful stuff.” Dean added hyped. The woman, Maritza, smiled. “And all three of you are certified, personal trainers?”

I was moving to speak but Dean excitedly answered for me. “Yeah. Yeah, personal training brothers. Kind of like Hans and Franz, but, uh, less German” Sam and I just smiled at the couple and I continued for Dean before he scared them from giving us the job.

“Yes, these two are the personal trainers and I could be of better use by providing a personal nutritionist standpoint on the food.” I smiled and both Maritza and her husband, Larry seemed like they were genuinely interested.

Larry, a tall, young, looking man, directed his attention to the three of us. “And you’re certified in…” Once again, Dean, overhyped says, “Makin' people sweat! Yeah. Kickin' ass and takin' names!” He slammed his hand on the table making everyone else in the room, including myself jump. “That's how we do!” Sam shot him a look and he digressed himself a bit.

“Uh...Uh, to clarify, uh, what my brother's trying to say is, we all have a passion for fitness and helping people.” Sam tried peeling the screaming attention from Dean and I knew what Dean was doing. He wasn’t into the whole healthy food and exercise life like Sam and me were and he was just trying to seem like fitness was his forte.

“Oh, us too. In fact, that's how we first met.” Maritza smiled, looking at her husband. She recounted the weight she helped him loose and how they fell in love.

“Oh, it's true! I was one empanada away from a heart attack. But then this... gorgeous godsend made me the lean, mean, fighting machine I am today.” Larry went crazy with some kungfu fighting moves in his seat and Sam, Dean and I leaned back in our seats, trying not to seem weirded out by the scene in front of us.

“But I digress. Now, the good news is, we are hiring. The bad news is, there's only one trainer position available.” We all smiled and Dean looked at Sam and I like he was saying “sorry but this one’s mine”. Larry looked at Dean, pointing his finger in his direction, “How do you feel about working in another department?” Dean’s head snapped towards Larry, “Huh?”

 

+++

Sam was given the position of a trainer and I was the nutritionist consultant. Fortunately, my uniform was simply gym gear like the trainers and to say I was comfortable was a massive understatement. I walked towards the lunch room and two men were working the stations, one restocking, the other, serving. As soon as the server turned around, I held myself from laughing.

“Go ahead, laugh it up.” Dean rolled his eyes, and I held my hand over my mouth to cover my laugh. Deans hair was neatly placed in a hairnet and reminded me of every lunch lady in any movie I had ever seen. He mimicked my laugh teasingly and I died myself down.

He took in my appearance and stopped working. “I thought they only had one trainer position?” I pulled on my jacket, wrapping one of the strings around my finger. “They do- did. I’m the nutritionist consultant. Yenno, different people, different diets, finding what works easiest for them.” He nodded his head as if he were saying “oh, right”.

“At least you get to work with food.” I smiled, gesturing to the food. He turned his head and looked over the food, “This is not food.” I saw all the healthy choices and thought of our case. “Yeah… don’t eat anything. It could be drugged so the monster can do its magic. Hence sudden hot trainer.”

Although I was mostly kidding, I was sure he understood it’s seriousness. His head shot in my direction. “Yeah, alright. See if it's been the food or massages that these people are losing the most weight from.” I nodded.

“Okay, first the trainer now the nutritionist? Do you ever work?” a random voice said. Both Dean and I looked towards the guy who was restocking the food and just glared at him. He rolled his eyes and walked away. “He thought I was flirting with Sam earlier.” I choked down a laugh as I watched the guy walk away.

When I turned back around, Dean was looming over my appearance once again. “What?” I asked. Dean grabbed one side of my jacket and lifted it onto my shoulder. “I’m still surprised I managed to win you over.” He smiled, looking back and forth into each of my eyes. I felt my breath hitch and a smile stretched onto my lips. “I was gonna say the same but you hit on anything that moves so…” I raised an eyebrow and Dean’s jaw slacked in a surprise of my words.

“I’m kidding. You were getting very chick flick there,” I laughed. Deans face flashed with recognition and his half-moon smile appeared on his lips. “Right, no chick flick moments.” He laughed. One of the first rules I had learned when riding along with the Winchester brothers was that there were no chick flick moments. In Dean’s eyes, anything too emotional was considered a chick flick moment. So that ranged from brother to brother moments, any talk about Bobby after he died, and well, everything that had happened to us in the past five and a half months. At first, I was fine with it, yenno, already having my walls up and all, but the term had gone to rest after almost every day was a chick flick moment so I thought now would’ve been a good time to bring the term back into the light.

I winked at him and walked away to my designated room where I would be seeing different people nonstop for the next few hours but I knew that once I found something that would help with the case, I wasn’t staying long after.

It took a few people, mostly because my first appointments were people who just got there, but I had finally found something they all had in common: they all had the same marks that the two victims and the trainer after getting spa treatments with Maritza.

Sam was supposed to be teaching a yoga class not too far from my room so when I was looking for Dean and found Sam leaving the kitchen I knew something was wrong. “There are marks on almost every single person here. I think it’s whoever is doing the massage sessions-”

“I saw them too. Look, Dean- just come with me.” Before I could comment on the matter, I was following Sam to the huge walk-in pantry. Dean was sitting up but looked like he was having a massive hangover. “Sweetheart I told you not to eat anything,” I said as I crouched in front of him. “I know” he dragged.

Sam explained that it wasn’t drugs that were in the pudding, but supplements. He handed Dean the supplement bottle and he looked into the bottle closing one eye, “These aren't supplements, they're roofies.” Sam and I looked at each other. “What? How do you know what roofies look like?” Sam questioned. I raised an eyebrow at Dean.

“How do you not know? You think I want to end up in a hotel bathtub with my kidney carved out? In Chechnya?” He took a sip of an energy drink Sam gave him, “Did you find anything out in the yoga?” He asked Sam.

“Yeah. Yeah. "Invasion of the Body Snatchers." Every single person in class had one of those freaky-ass suction marks.” I looked at both of them, “I really think that Maritza is our monster, guys. I mean almost every single person that had seen her for sessions all had suction marks.” Dean flipped his arms in defeat with the little energy he had. “What the hell's goin' on here?”

 

+++

Little did we know exactly what we had gotten into. Sam told us that he bumped into Sheriff Donna earlier and that she was spending her vacation at Canyon Valley. So, to get the best info, we went to her. She had the suction marks same as everyone else and as I presumed, it was Maritza. In pursuit of her, Dean and I caught her throwing jars of fat away. I tied her to a chair with wires before we let her explain.

“This isn't what you think. I'm not a killer.” She said helplessly. “Well, then, what are you?” Dean and I said simultaneously. “I'm a Pishtaco.” With her Peruvian accent, it sounded like she said something completely different.

Both Dean and I looked at each other in confusion. Her accent was heavy but I didn’t want to say what I heard in case I was completely off. “A fish taco?” Dean said with high confusion. She sighed in defeat, repeating herself. “A Pishtaco. It means "Peruvian fat sucker".” On first hearing it, it sounded like she said Fish Taco and hearing it again didn’t change that. I crossed my arms, “Never heard of it.”

“So, what, you're like vamps with a sweet tooth for cellulite?” He sassed as if he were saying ‘are you seriously telling me this is a thing right now?’. “Vampires kill. We're just... Parasites.”

“Oh, well, in that case-” he said sarcastically as he moved to cock his gun. “Look, I would never hurt anybody! Okay, this-this is why Larry and I started Canyon Valley. We could help people lose weight, and I could feed. It was a win-win.” she rushed. I inched closer to Dean and tried to signal him to stand down but he kept going. “Yeah, except for the two you dysoned to death.”

“That wasn't me,” she begged. I raised an eyebrow, putting my hand on top of Dean’s gun to lower it. He looked at me with confusion but I didn’t let myself feed into the look. “Well, then who was it?” Maritza shifted her attention from the gun to me. “Alonso.”

“The cafeteria guy?” Dean asked. “He's my brother."

 

+++

And here I was thinking that I could swoop in and save the day but it was the exact opposite. Alonzo killed Maritza’s husband and she was more than happy to comply with us on how to kill her brother. Silver knife to cut out the Pishtaco tongue.

At the moment, Alonso was holding me down by the neck and trying to eat me after he knocked Sam to the floor feet away from me. The silver knife  was out of my hands and nor did I have the strength to overpower him so I felt like a lost cause for the moment.

Even though we had flashlights, the darkness of the basement made it hard to fight back. Once Sam grabbed Alonso from on top of me, his fate was the same as mine. I inhaled heavily to try and catch my breath as Alonso kicked Sam through a poorly constructed wall and hovered over him, trying to eat him. Before I knew it, Alonso was on the floor, dead with his Pishtaco tongue cut out and bleeding next to him.

I stood myself up from the floor and limped towards the two completely as I was out of breath. “I had him on the ropes-" I put my hands on my knees, "man am I out of shape.” The two looked at each other with laughing smiles as I doubled over, exaggerating my low energy level.

 

+++

We sent Maritza back home to Peru where she was to live with our trust that she would continue not to hurt anyone.

Back in the Bunker, I was on my way to the kitchen when I overheard Sam and Dean arguing.

“I was ready to die. I was ready. I should have died, but you... You didn't want to be alone, and that's what all this boils down to. You can't stand the thought of being alone. Even with Britt here-” Sam stopped himself, probably from a dagger look from his brother. My heart stung at what Sam thought of his brother. There was no doubt that this was about tricking Sam into letting Gadreel in to heal him from the trials but it was hard to say that there was a 100% right side of what happened.

There was movement for a second before Sam continued with more fire in his tone. “I'll give you this much. You are certainly willing to do the sacrificing as long as you're not the one being hurt.” For a moment, I felt myself intervening and stopping them from adding more damage to their relationship, but I didn’t.

“All right, you want to be honest? If the situation were reversed and I was dying, you'd do the same thing.” Dean was right. There was nothing his brother wouldn’t do to save him. “No, Dean. I wouldn't.” Sam’s’ voice was so soft I could barely hear it but I didn’t hear the rest because I was already in my room, affected by the tension-filled atmosphere.

A knock on my door killed the silence of my room and startled me. Sam’s head peaked through, “Hey, I’m heading to bed. Just wanted to say goodnight… you okay?” He asked, walking in and closing the door behind him. I fiddled with my fingernails as he sat on the empty bed space next to me. “Yeah. Just uh, thinking… ” I felt him pull back a bit, “About what?”

“How far we’d go to save each other…” He knocked his head down to look at the floor. “You overheard…” We stayed quiet for a moment and I closed my eyes. “I would let a million things possess either one of you if it meant keeping you alive. Dean made a rash decision that ended up biting us all in the ass, I get that, but you know he wouldn’t have done it if he knew what was going to happen.” He remained quiet and I saw his jaw clench.

“But I understand. It’s a matter of making decisions for yourself and not your brother making them for you..."

I looked at my fingers fiddling and bit the inside of my cheek before continuing. "But let’s say I wanted to die, by the hands of the Obake, that I was ready to let it take over. Would you have let me go through with that decision…?” He looked like he was going to give me the same answer he gave Dean, but silence was all that was there.

I stood up and grabbed my leather jacket and keys. “I’m sorry things happened the way they did but things would’ve been worse if you weren’t here…” I said before stepping towards the door, “I’m gonna head out for a bit. Goodnight.”

On my way to my car in the garage, I opened my car door and threw the jacket in the passenger seat and before I could get in myself, a deep voice stopped my movements. “Where are you going?” Dean said from the open door driver side of the Impala. “Diner. I could use some loaded fries right now.” I walked towards his place in the car, and he rolled up his window before stepping out and closing the door.

“Okay if I come with?” He asked, smacking dust off his hands.” I shrugged, “Sure, want to drive?” He looked at my car then back at his then back at me. “Why don’t you drive this time?” I walked towards my car and he sunk into the passenger seat and off to the diner we went.

I felt like it was a good idea to get him out the bunker for something other than a case and it was also good for me too. We were doing things the healthy way. No dramatic tears, no chick flick moments, healthy. I wanted Sam to see things the way they happen from his brother, or my own, perspective. He knew his brother meant well, but one mess up cracked everything for us.  I couldn't help but think, do we do more harm than good?


	25. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mentions of death, mentions of self-harm, Ghosts  
> EPISODE: 9x14

Grocery shopping was an amusing experience at times. The cart would be separated into two very different categories so I knew I wasn’t missing anything for either of the two brothers. Deans food was mostly meats and barely anything green. Sam’s was less meaty and more green so making sure I had everything for them both was one of the easiest things.  At the counter, I pulled out some cash I got in a bar from winning pool and paid for the groceries. My job wasn’t necessarily the paying type so unfortunately, scammed credit cards and gambled money were all I had.

Things were still tense between Sam and Dean in the Bunker and the only noise that could be heard was Dean in the garage (if you were near) or the light sounds of my vinyls in my room or library. Anything that wouldn't make the place seem like a ghost town.

I walked into the Bunker with my hands full of grocery bags. I heard voices as I walked down the hallway into the kitchen and hoped the two were up to putting the groceries away. 

“Long-distance communication within the veil- it's not ideal. That's why I need you to go there, summon her, see what else she knows. You say you want to make it right? This is how.” Before I could register what I was seeing, I felt the weight of the bags disappear from my hands and Sam and Dean’s backs were no longer facing me. “Kevin?” I felt the tears welling up a the sight of his pale form disappearing.

I held back tears as I didn't rip my eyes away from where he last was. Sam started to slowly pick the bags of groceries off the floor and Dean was inching towards me. “Sweetheart-”  
  
“What did he want?” I cut him off, finally tearing my gaze from the empty space. “He wants us to find his his mom. He says he got word she's alive in Witchita.” I cleared my throat and realized how dry it was. Without a word, I picked up the remaining groceries, threw them to their designated places and started to make my way to the door but stopped when I realized no one was following. “What now?”

Dean swallowed a lump in his throat before speaking, “... Kevin wanted you to stay here, with him.” I softened my hard expression and looked around as if Kevin were to pop up at any second. “Um, can I talk to you outside for a second…?” I rushed before basically dragging Dean out the front door.

“I’m not staying.” His head tilted in confusion, “Why not? Britt, I don’t think he means any harm by asking you to stay…”

“I- I can’t.” I started to pace quickly back and forth, shaking out and fiddling with my hands. “You- he- he can’t ask me to stay.” Dean watched the panic in me rise and waited for me to explain. I stopped pacing once I found the words to try and help him understand. “Kevin is a ghost in our Bunker. That means ever since he died, he’s been in there. Do you- do you know how much of a mess I was when he died? How much of a mess I rearlywas?”  
  
“Of course I do.” I huffed at his response and started pacing again, wanting to avoid going into details. I assumed Castiel told him about what he caught me doing but I didn’t know for sure. Was this something I wanted to bring up? We were doing so good, healthy grieving, our relationship, everything…

“No... you don’t.” Dean grabbed my hand and I instantly stopped my movements. He stepped in front of me and rubbed his thumb gently on my hand. "Then tell me." he softly spoke. 

I swallowed my words, trying not force myself to stop but they didn’t. “Remember when we first met and we were hanging out one day and you asked about the injuries I had. The really bad ones? Well, they weren’t necessarily the cool werewolf battle wounds I said they were…” I watched his eyebrows slowly knitted together in realization. He shook his head, blinking, “I- okay… but what does this have to do with- oh… baby, I-”

He pulled me into his chest and the tears that had welled up as spoke him fell like waterfalls. “I hadn’t done it since Bobby m-made me promise but losing Kevin felt like the tip of the iceberg. H-He could’ve seen it all. I- no.  I can’t face him. What would I even say? I-” I pulled away from him as panic began to rise again and Dean softly hushed me as my hysteria was about to take over. I felt myself calm down as tears fell freely. He kissed the crown of my head.

We walked back to the Bunker where we last saw Kevin's ghost and I securely held Dean’s hand. He looked at me before speaking out into the open. “Kevin? We could use Britt for an extra hand in finding your mom-” A glass cup on the table shattered out of nowhere and Dean and I stared at the shards where the cup once stood.

“You staying?”

“Would you suggest otherwise?” I replied quickly. “Highly but it's his word over mine.” Dean kissed the side of my head and left with Sam. I grabbed a broom to sweep up the glass that had fallen but I ended up sweeping the entire bunker to refrain from thinking about the fact the Kevin was around. I threw the dust into the trash and when I turned around I jumped back a step at the sudden presence.

I thought I was going to burst into tears at the sight of him but surprisingly, I didn’t. I walked past him and sat at the table, folding my hands together. At this point, I was more nervousness than anything. I fiddled with my fingers more distractingly because I was afraid of what I might say. “It might be weird to say this but I’m proud of you.” I looked up at him with surprise.

“How could you possibly say that? You saw what I was doing. None of it is something to be proud of.”

He sat down in front of me and I pulled back, sitting up straight. “Exactly Britt. _Was_. You’re doing things the healthy way now and I’m proud of it. I just wish it kicked in sooner. Before, you know…”  I looked down feeling the tingling sensation in my nose. “I should’ve gone with my gut. I knew something was up and I didn’t say anything because you talked me out of it.”

“Stop, no. There’s no way either of us would have known so stop. I’ve watched you blame yourself day after day and I’m sorry I showed up to mess things up when they were going good but my moms out there.” He flashed away after that and I didn’t know whether it was intentional or not so I waited for a sign that he was still there. When nothing came of it I got up and went to my room to look through my vinyl records for what felt like the first time in a while.

I let my fingers linger on the albums and tried to think of a time where I actually listened to them. I closed my eyes and remembered. I was 19 and living with Bobby when I was first introduced to the old-fashioned technology.

I went inside to freshen up after working on my car and on my bed was a cardboard box. A note was standing on top of it and I pressed it open.

 

_Gone for hunt with Rufus_

_Didn’t know when you’d come back inside_

_Happy Birthday, Idjit_

_\- Bobby_

 

I completely forgot it was my birthday that year and it was sad to say but it was my best one yet. I placed the note on the side of the box and grabbed scissors to break the tape and open the box. Inside was a beautiful deep blue turntable record player with Elvis and Paul Anka albums wrapped in newspaper to hide the surprise. I had been in love with them ever since (the idea of vinyl records, not the artists).

The first notes of Free Fallin by Tom Petty came on and I turned around, getting lost in the music. Hours passed and I hadn’t heard anything from the brothers or Kevin. There was nothing to do. Kevin asked me to stay for what I assumed was an intervention but I didn’t expect it to be so short of one. As if he could read my mind, Kevin appeared opposite to me as I was sitting with my feet propped on the table.

“Hi again.” He smiled and I mirrored it, “Hey.”

“Sorry for disappearing. It takes a lot of energy to stay visible.” He sat in the chair across from me and as if I forgot he was a ghost, I almost asked if he wanted a drink. “So, what brings you back again? I thought after your “stop trying to kill yourself” speech, you flashed out for good.” I took a sip of my bourbon and hissed at the burn. Kevin was lost in thought and it wasn’t until I placed my glass down that he snapped his attention back to me. “You okay?” I asked raising an eyebrow.

“Uh yeah, yeah. There’s something you need to know but I'm not sure if I should be the one to tell you.” His voice was low, shakey nonetheless. I dropped my feet from their propped place on the table and let him know he had my full attention. He struggled to continue. I almost reached for his hand but mine probably would’ve fallen right through his so I kept to myself.

“It’s about Dean... The Mark of Cain is-is ch-” His presence twitched and quickly disappeared. I looked around in concern. “Kevin? Kevin!”

The effect of the mark wasn’t too bad from what I understood from Dean but from the two previous owners, I should’ve known otherwise. Dean blanked out a lot and sometimes sat still in silence until I came into the room where he would light up in every way so I never saw a reason to be concerned.

Kevin’s words, or at least what he was going to say, haunted me for the long run. It had been days since I heard from him and I caught myself hovering my thumb over Deans name on my phone but each time I just put my phone down and distanced myself further from it. I had gone through more albums in one day than I ever had in one sitting and hearing the same songs over and over again felt sickening.

It was the day before Sam and Dean came back with Mrs.Tran that I saw Kevin again. I was making my second pot of coffee when he popped up. “-trying to flash for the past 2 days and I-”

“Kevin.” He stopped talking and was content to know he was visible. His body language was in a way that says “I don’t have much time before I flash out again so listen” and essentially, he said something along those lines.

“Dean. He’s freaked with the mark. He scares himself awake, his hand is shaky, he- just everything says he’s not okay. I wanted to tell you before something bad happens. Oh, and you told me that he used the First Blade to kill your flamethrowing boyfriend then it disappeared? I’d watch out for it if I were you. The word on it is dangerous.” He flashed out after that. Once again, I felt as if he left intentionally, same as the first time.

His words were like knives to my heart and it felt like a twist when I realized that Dean’s been hurting the whole time but hid it. Even from me.

For once, for all of us, I thought things were getting better. I truly believed it. But there it was, the inevitable force of darkness that washes out everything that is healthy and stable. After I talked to Sam and left him to think about what I said about letting the Obake take over, he and I let things out whenever we could. Blurting, as you would say. Recently there’s been nothing to blurt about, but then again, maybe it was another illusion that things were getting better. My thoughts turned sour as I thought he could’ve been holding it in after we were making progress, shielding himself from me as I had done so many times before.  

The First Blade was the jaw crafted blade that partnered with the Mark of Cain. One is powerless without the other and if I had known Dean had to use the mark to get rid of Eric and his dad, I would’ve happily let them kill me. Anything that would prevent him from the urges of the mark. And it was true what Kevin said about the First Blade disappearing. Dean was more set on finding it than anything else which was good for me at the time because it let me drown my sorrows in peace. 

Sam and Dean came back later that day and by the time I made it to them, Kevin was gently saying hi to his crying mother. The sight as a whole was heartbreaking and somehow, I found a way to keep myself from becoming a sobbing mess. Dean pulled out Kevin's old things and Mrs. Tran went through them all to find anything Kevin would be tied to so she could take him home with her. Mrs. Tran was sure it was his father's ring that his spirit had tied itself to. Never had it occurred to me that Kevin had a father. I mean, I _knew_ he had a father, but I just never really thought about it enough to ask.

Kevin was at the foot of the stairs saying his farewells and I held my head high as he did so. “She was held and tortured for a year because of me. Now that I found her, I'm not letting her out of my sight. She's my responsibility.” I smiled faintly at him.

“And you were ours. And we failed you. I-” I felt my jaw clench at Sams words yet despite the sharp feeling, I kept my head as high as ever. “Sam. I know that wasn't you. Go put a blade in that asshat who possessed you and we'll call it square.” Sam nodded his head at Kevin’s words and in a perfect world, I hoped that it cleansed him of his hatred of himself but I knew it was nothing but words to him.

“Guys. Thank you.” Kevin smiled. “You can thank us when we get you to heaven where you belong. Okay, until then, enjoy your time with your mom. The, uh, uninterrupted, 24/7, no-escape quality time.” Dean chuckled half-heartedly and Kevin’s smile grew bigger than I had seen it in a while. “Dick. Hey, before I go... Will you guys promise me something?”

I stood in my place knowing his next words weren’t 100% directed towards me. Being that we’ve already had our talk. “Can you two... Get over it? Dudes, just 'cause you couldn't see me doesn't mean I couldn't see you. The drama, the fighting... It's stupid. My mom's taking home a ghost. You two... You three are still here.” Towards the end, my head snapped to meet his gaze as I realized he was implying myself as well.

Sam promised and Dean just agreed but knowing these two, it was not something they could just get over. Dean tried to spark conversation with Sam when Kevin and Mrs.Tran walked out the door but by the time he turned his head, Sam was already turning the corner towards his room.

I rested my hand on Dean’s shoulder and felt a knot in my stomach as he glanced my way, lightly kissed my head and made was for his room, making my hand drop to my side. I sighed and ran a tired hand down my face as I heard two doors slam shut. I couldn't get what Kevin told me out of my head. It was going to bother me, I knew it. 

And it did.

I found myself knocking on Dean's door and got no answer. I opened the door and expected him to be asleep but he was on his back with arms crossed and headphones blasting his music. He parked up as he saw the door open and he took his headphones off.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked. I closed the door behind me and felt the knot tighten in my stomach. "I came to ask you the same thing." 

He moved on the bed and stood up, walking up to me. "Forget me for the moment. Was the talk with Kevin as bad as you thought?" I smiled faintly, "No, I needed it.” 

"I think we all did. Did he talk to you about the-" He cut himself off but gestured his hand towards me implying I knew what he was talking about. "Yeah. Got a real slap in the face." I crossed my arm over my chest and held myself. 

"Is everything okay with you?" The words flew out before I could stop them and when I realized they were coming out, I distanced myself slightly as I bit the inside of my cheek. His eyebrows knitted lightly together as he hooked his finger under my chin to look up at him and it was evident he didn't want to answer.

He let out a breathy laugh, "I'm fine, Britt-"

“Don’t- Don’t lie to me.” his eyebrows creased together. “Baby, I’m not lying. What’s going on?” For a moment I thought I was in over my head but when I remembered that it was Kevin who noticed it and _saw_ that something was wrong, even gave a warning, I knew to not let myself be reverted from it.

I looked into Dean’s leafy green eyes and then quickly glanced at his forearm before he could notice. I untangled my arms and gripped his hand, turning it so his forearm was facing me and pulled up his folded sleeve to reveal the mark. His jaw clenched at the sight of it. 

I reached up to his chestnut scruffed cheek and made him look at me. “Dean, we can’t make the same mistakes again… What is this mark doing to you?” His eyes filled with sadness as my soft voice was the only form of sound that had cut the empty space between us. He let out a shaky breath before answering. “Talk over loaded fries?” He shrugged with a side smile that could only be described as the thing he uses to cover himself up most. His smile faded away as my gaze didn’t change at the mention of loaded fries.

"What do you want to know?" He sighed, avoiding eye contact. "Everything." 


	26. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Nightmares, post-death, Rude!Sam, BrittxDean, Drunk!Crowley, fluff  
> EPISODE: Minutes after 9x14// Intro to 9x16

I held my hand out for Dean’s car keys. “I’m not going to drive her, come on.” He took the keys out of his back pocket and heavily placed them into my waiting hand. His jaw slacked as I turned to the door. I stopped before opening when he didn't move. "Well are you just gonna stand there and look pretty?"

He looked over eventually started to follow me to the garage where I opened the Impala's trunk and grabbed the deep green blanket I threw in there from time to time.

I closed the trunk and rounded back to him, holding my hand out for him to take. Without hesitation, he took my hand and I led him through the halls. I knew we made it to a part of the Bunker Dean had never seen before as soon as he looked wearily at the spiral staircase

“Where are you taking me?” Dean asked, tired of going up the spiral steps. “You’ll be fine, princess.” I sassed. After a minute or so, we approached a ladder leading to a twist-to-open hatch. I handed Dean the blanket and climbed the ladder to twist and push the hatch open. I continued to climb and looked back at Dean who was just watching me and nowhere near getting on the ladder.

“Are you coming or what?” I smiled. Despite the conversation that we were about to have, there was no tension between us like there usually was with serious topics. He knew I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t care and I tried to make sure that he knew I cared every day I was with him.

His head finally peaked out from the open hatch and he raised an eyebrow as he took in our surroundings. I was sitting on the ledge of the roof with my knees to my chest watching as he finished climbing out. “How did you find a way to get to the roof?” He asked in bewilderment, still looking around us. “I found it yesterday. Kevin disappeared and I had nothing else better to do so I looked at the floorplans and found my new favorite spot.”

He unfolded the blanket and placed up it on the floor. I got up from my place and sat on the blanket while it took Dean a second to. He finally sat down next to me and looked at the sky ahead as the sun seemed to be lowering. I rested my head on his shoulder and he placed his on top of mine as we sat in silence for what felt like forever.

“What did Kevin tell you?” Dean asked softly, lifting his head off of mine. I pulled away and crossed my legs Indian style, facing the side of his body. “I don’t know anything unless you tell me. But I’ll know when your lying.” He smiled briefly at me, a slight chuckle resonating in his chest. “Well… it’s not as bad as it could be.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?” He tore his gaze at the sky ahead of us and looked at me with a smile. “Meaning I’m not a bloodshed thirsty killing machine.” My eyes widened in shock. Maybe getting the mark wasn’t the best idea for the long run.

“I see that look in your eyes wanting to tell me that this was a mistake, and maybe it is, but we need Abbadon and Metatron dead.” He leaned back, hands supporting him. I fiddled with my fingers as I looked at the changing sky around us. “I know. I just- I thought things were going well, I mean really well, for the past month and a half and here I am finding out that you’ve been fighting a battle by yourself and keeping it in.”

“And it’s because things were going well that I didn’t want to say anything but I guess it had to come out at some point. I’m sorry you had to find out like that.” I turned my head to meet his saddened gaze and placed my hand on his stubbled cheek, smiling softly. “I don't know anything unless you tell me.”

Dean leaned into my touch and closed his eyes.

 

  
**Dean’s POV**  
I remembered the most recent thing: the nightmare. The one that’s haunted me even to this moment. It was in the third person like I was watching a show about me but I felt every emotion I went through.

I was having a nightmare in the dream and Britt walked into the room softly trying to wake me up. When I woke up within the dream I reached for the First Blade under my pillow and pierced it through her stomach, thinking it was Abbadon as I had whispered in my sleep.

When my eyes sprung open, I sat up, drenched in sweat and looking for her. The space next to me was empty and I was scared that it was a memory rather than a dream. I ran to her room which had her stuff but no one in it and Sam’s was sound asleep in his bed with an empty bottle of whiskey on his nightstand. I started to panic and made my way to the kitchen, light humming could be heard from the hallways but I had to see for myself.

I approached the entrance and there she was, in front of the stove. A wave of relief flashed over my conscious and I walked towards her. She turned around with a plate in her hand, smiling as she noticed my presence. “Hey, sweetheart.” Her face crumpled at my appearance, “You’re drenched. Did you have another nightmare?” She asked softly, running a hand through my damp hair.

“I love you, so much,” I said before kissing her.

Footsteps echoed behind us and I turned around to see Sam squinting at the brightness. “Dean, who are you talking to?” He asked, scratching his head. “Don’t be rude, Sam. Britt was nice enough to make us breakfast.” Sam looked confused as he looked around.

“Dean… imagining Britt still here isn’t going to bring her back. The faster you accept she’s gone, the easier it’ll be for both of us to move on.” I looked confusingly at my brother and turned back to see Britts reaction but there was nothing there. Not even the food she made. And the kitchen lights weren't on. 

I frightfully woke up after that and I had gone to Britt’s room to make sure I was really awake. She was sound asleep and cuddled into her pillow.

Now how do you tell someone that you dream of them dying, or living in a world without them? You don’t. You tell them every other dream that involves the ones we hate. They were no nightmares but the fear of the mark taking over was something to jolt awake about. For all I knew, the mark could’ve been telling me my future.

Feeling the need of the First Blade after we couldn’t find it was one of the worst feelings yet.

I needed that blade in my hand.

I needed to feel the power it gave me and it felt sickening to want such a thing no matter how bad the itch was.

 

 **Britt’s POV**  
Dean sighed softly before he spoke again. “I’ve been having dreams of the mark taking over and it’s not a pretty picture.” As he spoke I let my hand fall from his face. I didn’t know whether to ask for him to continue, or if I even wanted him to.

Knowing how evil the previous owners to the mark were, it was hard to think that that kind of evil and power was given to an already damaged person. Lucifer grew jealous when he had it and Cain became a killer when it was his so I had no idea what true effects the mark was going to have on Dean other than little things like nightmares and blackouts.

“And I get these visions during the day too, they’re vicious and hard to snap out of.” I placed my hand on top of his as it supported his body and he pushed himself to sit regularly and held my hand as a distraction. “Is there anything I can help you with to make this easier?” Dean looked up from our fingers and let out a breathy laugh.

“Trust me, if there was an instruction manual to this thing, you’d be the first to know.” I sighed and looked at the sky ahead of Dean, feeling the last bit of sun rays. My head once again found its way to his shoulder. “If anyone can do this, it's you.”

Dean said nothing as we watched the sky darken. When the darkness filled with twinkling stars, Dean quickly laid his back on the blanket, making me fall back with him. “So, almost 2 months with me, how does it feel?”

“Well, I do enjoy the frequent gift of fries,” I said reasonably. Dean’s chest bounced as he laughed. “I knew it. You only wanted me for the fries.” He laughed. “Seriously, I’ll never understand your obsession.”

I shrugged, “Simple. Fries are sold at every place in the world. When things feel like crap, fries can be there when nothing else is.” I could almost feel him smile with his next words. “So if I were ever to be an evil villain, I know what I’d have to do to defeat you.”

I sat up and leaned on my forearm, shock evident in my features. “Don’t you dare say it-” He continued to look up at the sky but the smile on his face grew. “Burn every potato in existence.” I moved to get up and Dean grabbed onto my arm, making me fall onto him in a yelp. “It was only fair. You use me for fry access.” He laughed.

What started off as a heart-wrenching conversation, led to a night filled with laughter and love. To get back inside the Bunker later that night was something we both dreaded. Dean developed into the goofy person he was when we first met years ago and I didn’t want the realities of the world to shatter that when we got back to it.

“Stay with me tonight,” Dean asked, holding my room door open before I could close it fully. I was ready to steer away from his sly attempt but when I widened the door to what I thought was going to be a darkened grin, a neutral, almost worried expression was there instead. “I’ll be there in a second,” I assured before closing the door and changing into some sweats.

Not even a few minutes of laying in his arms, his light snores soothed me to sleep.

But the sleep only lasted so long.

Around 3 am, Dean was sitting up with sweat on his forehead and shirt, panting. When I sat up to calm him, he flinched as if he forgot I was there but his body lost its tension soon after.

“Hey, you’re here. You’re okay.” I assured as I ran my hand through his damp hair and watched the alertness in his eyes slowly disappear. "You're here, you're okay." He almost cried as he pulled me into a tight hug.

Fortunately, he was able to sleep after that.

Dean’s nightmares were growing worse and harder to bring him back to reality from. We never talked about it unless he started talking but I was scared. Knowing what the really bad nightmares can do to a person, I didn’t want that for another human being, let alone one of the people I cared deeply about.

 

+++

A week and a half later and we were head-on in finding the First Blade. Abaddon was getting stronger and gaining more demos support by the day. The Sam and I were researching all we could about Cain and Abel in the library of the Bunker while Dean was trying to get ahold of Crowley who was supposed to be finding where the First Blade had disappeared to.

“Come on, Crowley. Pick up! Where the hell is he? It's not like he's got a social life.” Dean grew frustrated after calling Crowley with no answer. His pacing made me resonate with nerves that would calm no one. Sam looked up from his computer and at his brother. “Uh, are you actually worried?” he asked with an eyebrow raised. Dean didn’t answer and listened into the phone for the millionth time probably getting nothing more than a voicemail.

“Guy's got one job- find the First Blade, bring it back. How hard is that?” Dean said, slowing his pace at the end of the table. I paused from reading yet another version of the duel between Cain and Abel. “I mean, I don’t think it’s necessarily easy.” My hands massaged the sides of my head in annoyance of the slight headache from reading so much in little time. “Not to mention, It's Crowley. He's not exactly a team player.” Sam added.

“Yeah, but his ass is on the line, too. He goes missing for weeks on end without a peep? Well, not one that makes sense, anyway. Listen to this.” Dean set his phone on the table and played a voicemail on speaker. Crowley’s voice slurred through the playback, “Dean. Um…” was the only thing understandable before he started rambling.

Sam squinted the at audio. “Wait a second. Did he...Drunk-dial you?” I tried to contain my laughter but it didn’t stop from coming out. Sam joined me and Dean just tried to get a hold of Crowley.

 


	27. Blood Junkie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Dead bodies, blood, Child!Crowley, intervention, Crime Scene  
> EPISODE: 9x16

Standing at a crossroads in the cold night was the last place I wanted to be at the moment but we needed to get in touch with a demon so they could tell us where Crowley was. Sam handed me the demon knife before he started to shove the dirt with his feet to bury a container of ritual items while Dean finished spray-painting a giant Devil's Trap. He stepped back and stood between me and his brother. “All right, do it.”

I recited the demon summoning spell and when nothing happened, we looked around in confusion. “Maybe you said it wrong?” Dean tried. I gritted my teeth, “I don't get spells wrong.” I turned around and leaned back a little at the sight before me. “Winchesters.”

The brothers turned around and were met with a red-eyed Snooki. She looked me over before sassily adding, “plus one.” Sam looked startled before lowering his voice. “I-is that, uh...?”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Dean said, not taking his eyes off of the Jersey Shore star. “Okay, uh, look… Snooki- can I call you "Snooki"?” Sam carefully spoke. “No. It's Nicole now.” She smiled, perfecting her deep red hair. Sam continued, “Okay, then. Nicole... We can do this one of two ways. The easy way- you talk. Or the easier way-” I waved the demon knife playfully. “-you still talk.”

I smirked, cockily looking at my reflection in the knife. “I vote for number two.” There were two things that demons hated: Getting exorcised which sent them back to be a tortured soul in hell and dying. Snooki just looked bored between the three of us

“We just want some basic information on Crowley. That's it.” Sam assured her. She rolled her eyes, “Pfft, Google him. Are we done?” I stepped towards her with the knife raised and Snooki backed up a little, shielding her face. “Whoa! Not the face! Are you crazy? Listen, guys, what happens in Hell stays in Hell. I got nothin'.” Her voice raised and I backed up, letting the boys continue with a little tag team interrogation.

“But you do have a pretty sweet deal with Crowley in charge. If Abaddon wins, you can kiss all that goodbye-” Dean started,

“-all the fancy cars, the book deals,” Sam added.

“Showbiz can be tough.” Dean sassed. She looked him over. “I'm doing fine. Thanks.” she retorted, wanting this to be over more than anything. “Oh. Well, good luck landing your next gig inside a Devil's Trap.” he squinted his eyes and gestured to the demon holding trap he spray painted earlier.

Snooki sighed, “What do you want to know?” I put the blade in my back pant loop. “Where is Crowley?” I asked. “Last time I heard, he was somewhere in the western Pacific.” My eyebrows knitted together as I turned my head around to look at the brothers for some kind of reaction.

Sam turned to his brother, “Makes sense.” Snooki looked wide-eyed at Sam. “Really? Floatin’ around in the ocean while his kingdom goes up in flames?” My head turned back to her.

“Meaning?” Dean asked before Sam or I could. “Hell's gettin' crazy. Even the loyalists want to sign on with Abaddon. She's gonna make her move. Are we done? I got a thing.” She sassed, playing with her hair once again. The three of us exchanged looks as Snooki fixed her appearance. I looked at Sam and nodded towards her, he smiled graciously. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…”

“Seriously? An exorcism? We had a deal!” I twiddled my fingers as I waved goodbye. “See ya, Snooks.” Dean added as Sam continued the exorcism and Snooki had no choice but to take it.

 

+++

I was at the map table in the war room researching supernatural places in the Western Pacific that would’ve resulted in Crowley taking a plunge but nothing supernatural other than a deep trench was there. “Maybe Crowley found it, and it's a double-cross.” I sighed as Dean walked in. “That doesn't make sense. He wants me to power it up and kill the ginger. He set it up.”

I leaned back in my chair and closed my laptop, giving up on research. “Okay. A-assuming he does show up with it, Crowley is only useful to us until we have the Blade.” Sam started, closing his half way. Dean stopped in his place, listening intently. “Yeah. So?”

“So… There's nothing stopping us from using it on him, right?” I leaned in, eyebrows to the roof, looking between the two. “Nothing at all.” Dean said without hesitation. His phone started to ring and he pulled it out of his pocket.

“Speak of the devil.” He leaned on the table with his back to me and answered. “Did you find the First Blade?” He rolled his eyes at what I assumed was a no. “Well, then, what, exactly?”

 

+++

We waited in the living room of a hotel room Crowley told us to meet him and to say the place was a mess didn’t begin to cover it. I walked over to the dead woman laying on the floor and coughed at the smell. I walked over to Dean and stepped over another body to get to him. Dean was leaning his shoulder on the wall with his arms crossed as he was talking to Sam who was sitting on the armrest of a chair in front of him. The door handle jiggled and I crossed my arms, waiting for the demon.

As he stepped in, he hadn’t noticed our presence but when he did, he stopped and looked over. “Hello, boys. Britt.” Dean kicked a foot of the dead body in front of me “And what do you call this?”

Crowley looked briefly at it before looking back at Dean. “Refreshments?” I looked down to Crowley’s hand and saw a brown paper bag. “What's in the bag, Crowley?”

“Nothing.” He said very quickly as he tried to hide it behind him. Sam stood from the armrest and inched towards him. “Really? Maybe I can,” he reached for the bag and tore it open revealing a blood bag filled with AB Negative. “What, are you knocking over blood banks?” Sam drilled.

He grabbed Crowley's arm and Dean swung a chair around, shoving Crowley into it and handcuffing him to the arm. Crowley didn’t even try to stop them. “Come on, guys.”

Dean looked disgusted at the demon. “Look at you. You're a mess. You know, we were counting on you. You let us down.” His voice raised more and more every second and Crowley just took it. “Your slimy followers were counting on you to kill Abaddon, and you let them down.” Sam pointed.

Dean shook his head, “The man with all the mojo- Captain Evil.” Sam looked up, “Oh, it's pathetic.” Crowley pulled on his extended handcuff and felt his restriction. “What is this? An intervention?”

“You need to focus, Crowley. Get a grip!” Sam yelled. “What, you just gonna let Hell go to Hell?” Dean said, beyond pissed. Crowley’s face turned sour. “You don't know what it's like to be human!” I felt myself start to say something but Dean and I just looked at each other with squinted eyes.

He instantly regretted his words but continued anyway. “It's your DNA. It's my addiction, my cross, my burden!” I laughed a little, “All right, take it easy there.” But Crowley ignored it and continued.

“I see the darkness of it now, the Anthony Weiner of it. It makes you needy.” He looked over at the dead body of the woman I saw earlier. “I needed her. Lola used me. She reported everything I did back to Abaddon.” Sam leaned in, “Crowley... Did you tell her about the First Blade?”

“I don't know. Things get a trifle blurry when I'm medicated.” I groaned in frustration, flopping my arms out to the side, “Great. If he told Lola, she definitely told Abaddon.” Dean stepped in, “Which means that Abaddon's in the hunt for this thing, too. All right, you know what? This crap ends now.” He started taking Crowley’s handcuff attached to the armrest off and grabbed him. “You're cut off. Okay? Kickin it. Cold turkey.”

 

+++

It was revealed that the First Blade was summoned back to the time where it was first thrown to the bottom of the Marianas Trench in the bottom of the ocean by Cain himself. Since then it had been scooped up by an unmanned sub, from whom it was stolen by a research assistant, who reportedly sold it to Portuguese smugglers who, in turn, lost it to Moroccan pirates in a poker game. After an André Develin character bought the Blade from the pirates, he's been shopping it around. We were now in a park dressed in our FBI suits waiting for him in the midst of the night as Crowley was feet away, trying to steal candy from a vending machine. When Dean called him out on it, he childishly sulked away.

A man approached, “Mr. Develin, we spoke on the phone.” I smiled, reaching out to shake his hand but got a cold look in return.

“You said you represent a serious collector with an interest in a private transaction.” He looked between me and the brothers beside me. Before I could answer, Dean stepped in, “Did she? Oh. Well, what she meant to say was, is that we are with... The FBI.” We pulled out our fake badges. I smiled at the man. “Yes, I must apologize for the false information. The FBI doesn’t like to have their true business spoken of over the phone.” The man listened intently with no facial expression more than a hard look.

“Then good evening,” he said, starting to turn and walk away.

I started to panic, we were on a tight schedule. Abaddon was looking for the Blade too but if it got into her hands, we were defenseless. I reached out for the man’s arm, not yet touching him yet he stopped.

“Wait a second. We just want some answers.” Sam tried, “Read Sartre. Jean-Paul Sartre. I’m merely a facilitator between the buyer and the seller- a conduit. So, unless I'm being detained-” A red smoke entering Mr.Develin made him stop talking and I looked over to see Crowley’s empty meat suit sitting on a park bench close by. The three of us exchanged looks and moments later, the red smoke rushes out of Mr. Develin and back into Crowley’s vessel.

“So, am I? Being detained?” Mr. Develin asked. “Not at the… moment. No, but we've got our eyes on you.” Dean said, still flustered from the scene we just witnessed. Crowley stood from the park bench and walked over to us. “National Institute of Antiquities.”

+++

Hours later we were at a crime scene at the National Institute of Antiquities where we were headed anyways. We were still in our FBI suits and getting in was more than simple, as usual. Two security guards and a girl were dead, no explanation. At least for the police.

“I don't have much for you guys. The guards were good men. They'd been here for years- vetted, honest. But…” The head detective started. “But?” Dean asked. “Security camera shows a research assistant caught them breaking into vault number one.” I looked beside me, pointing at the woman’s body on the ground, “That's her?”

The detective followed my point and nodded. “Gets weirder.” He showed us the security footage and it showed one security guard shooting the other one. Then the one that was just shot got up and shot the first guard. Then one guard shot out the camera. “Like I said.”

“Anything special about the particular vault they opened?” Sam asked. “Vault number one is where they keep rare, new acquisitions while they're being examined.”

Deans eyebrows knitted together. “So what was stolen?”

“That's the kicker- nothing. The curator, Dr. McElroy, said the vault's been empty for weeks.” The detective was called away after and I stepped into his place. Dean started thinking out loud. “Okay, so, just connecting the dots here- the Blade was likely put in there when it first got here.” I nodded.

Sam quickly looked at the bodies behind him and shrugged softly. “The guards were obviously demons, so... What? When the vault turned out to be empty, they killed their guard meat-suits and smoked out?”

“Seems rookie. Maybe they’re quick to deliver. Strictly in and out.” I added. “And report back to who? Abaddon?” Dean crossed his arms, tension in his voice rising. Sams lips flatlined, “She's closing in.”


	28. Start of the Dark Ages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of Skin mags  
> Episode: 9x16

The First Blade was once again sold to an “exclusive” buyer by the name Magnus. Magnus was a name that Men of Letters used if they wanted to go into hiding but as far as we knew, all of the Men of Letters were dead. I figured we’d ask the old demon for some info.

In the Bunker’s dungeon, Crowley was sitting there trussed up inside the devil's trap. “Turndown service? I'd like a mint on my pillow.” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. “What do you know about the Men of Letters massacre of 1958?”

“We know Abaddon missed our grandfather and Larry Ganem. Was there anybody else?” Dean added. Crowley licked his lips almost angrily. “Let me get this straight. You keep me locked up in this closet, ignore my suffering, and then come barging in here and demand my help?” I shrugged my shoulders, nodding my head. “More or less, yeah.”

“Did I or did I not keep my end of the bargain the other night? Quite brilliantly, I might add. We are partners! And you owe me!” He yelled. Sam laughed under his breath. “Owe" you?”

Crowley continued his rant. “I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you three. You shoot me up. You make me a junkie. You keep me stashed away for months while my kingdom falls apart?!” Dean rolled his eyes, “What do you want?”

Moments later we were all in the library scouring through boxes of Men of Letter files and Crowley was drinking a scotch. “It's not a very good scotch, is it?” He said as he looked at it through the glass. Sam spoke as he continued to read the tabs of files. “Okay, Crowley, we have gone through the records for the entire membership in 1958. Every single name matches the men who were killed.”

Crowley was only half paying attention as he found a Busty Asian Beauties magazine and started looking through it. I rolled my eyes, scolding Dean. He averted his eyes away from me as he felt my gaze. I had burned every one of those magazines on of my bad days after the boys were paying more attention to that then work or the other two in the room. Let's just say my jealousy got the best of me.

“That would be the active membership, correct?” Crowley asked mindlessly as he slowly flipped through the magazine. Sam looked up and rolled his eyes as I had but widening them as he met my gaze.

“Were you two dropped on your heads a great deal? Like I told you, rumor has it that a rogue member was tossed out on his arse. Does that make him "active"? Seriously, how did you ever function without me?” I Was going to retort on the demons sass but he would’ve ignored it based on how invested he was in that magazine. “Well, hello, Miss Ichigatsu.”

Dean read aloud a file box in his hand. "Infamati et obliterati."

"Dishonored and forgotten," Crowley said, still invested in the magazine.

 

+++

Not too long later, the three of us we were still reading over files from the “Dishonored and forgotten” labeled box. Dean held out a paper for his brother, “Wow. This guy was something.”

“Tough name.” Sam laughed, handing the paper back to Dean. He shifted the paper for me to see and I choked down a laugh. “Yeah, Cuthbert Sinclair. I'd have just gone with "Magnus." He said. I looked down at my file of him and countless drawings of wardings were written all over them. “Looks like he designed most of the warding that keeps the bunker safe.”

Dean pulled up another paper, “Says here he was named "Master of Spell", right after he initiated.” at this point, we were backhanding all of Magnus’ information. “I guess his work got a little crazy. The leadership called it "eccentric" and "irresponsible".” Sam added.

“K, so these are the projects that he proposed the last two years he was here. Look at this-” Dean started flopping filed down one after the other. “"rejected." "Rejected." "Rejected"” Crowley butt in from the other side of the table. “So difficult- brilliant, ahead of your time, despised for it. Trust me, I know.”  
  
We paid no mind to him as we continued to look for anything about Magnus’ current location. “Formal separation from Men of Letters: April 1956.” Dean read aloud. I stopped, thinking. “He missed the massacre.” Crowley butt in once again, this time saying something useful. “I never knew his name, but I heard someone was out. Did my damndest to find him. Thought he might be my way inside this joint.”

“So where'd you look?” Sam asked.

 

+++

Once again we were walking through a forest with Crowley leading the way towards a clearing. “So this is where your demons tracked him to?” Dean asked, turning towards the demon. “Exact spot. My boys never could find him. I'm sensing nothing, so if he's here, he's warded up to the gills.”

I was looking around trying to find any flaw to lead to a door. “Well, he was a genius at it, right? Sure as hell ain't gonna be found by a bunch of demons.” Sam sassed. “Oh, like he's gonna open his heart to you lot because you're such prizes?” The demon retorted. Dean smirked, “Better- we're legacies.”

I lifted a finger in the air, “Yeah, um, about that. I’m not of the Men of Letters bloodline. There’s no way I could make it through.” Sam turned around to face me. “You’ll be fine, you’re a Woman of Letters.” I nodded, smiling to myself from the official title.

Dean smacked his hands, rubbing them together. “All right, if he's so bent on hiding, maybe he's watching. Give it a shot.” Sam started speaking to the air. “Cuthbert Sinclair- uh, Magnus- whatever. We're Sam and Dean Winchester, Henry Winchester's grandsons, accompanied by another.”

“And Men of Letters, ourselves,” Dean added. Sam continued, “We know what happened back in the day. We don't necessarily agree with it. We figured… Maybe you want to tell your side of the story.” Nothing happened and I turned to Crowley, raising an eyebrow. Crowley pointed behind us and a smokey doorway raised from the ground. We all exchanged looks and started to walk through as Crowley stayed behind. We were immediately in a hallway of a beautiful mansion.

We approached a split way and we went right, instantly being attacked by two vampires. As one was having the slight upper hand with Dean, I chopped its head and blew a piece of hair out of my face. “Getting flashbacks of our first meet?” I smiled. Sam finished his off and then clapping could be heard over an intercom, followed by a voice. “Bravo! Well done.”

 

+++

The three of us were seated on a couch as the man was pouring himself a drink. “Sorry about all the theatricality. I just wanted to see what you were made of.” Dean looked around, gears turning in his head. “So, what, are we underground?” The man looked around as well, “No. No, my fortress is right where you were standing. But it's invisible.”

Sam’s eyebrows raised. “Then you must be Cuthbert Sinclair.” The man groaned, “Ugh. I haven't gone by that moniker in, oh… 57 years now.” I blinked at his statement, as did Sam and Dean. “Well, you're looking good for a guy pushing… 90?” Dean asked.

“Well, thanks, sport. There's a spell for damn near everything. I am impressed, though. You did exactly what you should've done. Though I am gonna miss those two from my zoo.” I coughed a little, “Your zoo?”

“Oh, you are in the midst of the greatest collection of supernatural rarities and antiquities on the planet. I'm sorry. Did you say that you were Men of Letters? I thought that whole thing died out after '58. And, I assume you’re the accompanied.” Magnus said to the brothers, then looking me over.

“Well, we are-” Sam gestured between he and Dean, “-we are legacies. But actually, uh... We're hunters.” Magnus’ eyes widened as he sat closer. “Hunters? Wow! Hunters. With the key to the kingdom! The boys must be spinning in their graves. Damn snobs. Bunch of librarians, if you ask me. Although I was always fond of Henry. I was his mentor, you know? Yeah, till the squares gave me the boot. Yeah. 'Course, he came here to visit me, in secret. Called out to me, same as you did. Oh, yes. Quite the wild hair, your grandfather was.”

Dean folded his hands. “Listen, Magnus, uh... We got ourselves a little situation. Abaddon, the last Knight of Hell, is looking to up her pay grade and take over the place.” Magnus sighed, “Things never change, do they? I kept telling the boys over and over again- I would say, "we could stop all this. We could rid the world of monsters once and for all if we just put our minds to it", but, "oh, no," they said. "No, no, no. It's not our place. We're here to study. We're here to catalog.”

Dean smiled politely. “Yeah, yeah, no, we get it. They're, uh...geeks.” Magnus hummed as Dean continued. “But she can be stopped. But we need something that we hear you have. The First Blade.” Magnus hummed again, eyes widening a little “ I see. Interesting. But if you'd really done your homework, you would know that it's absolutely useless, unless, of course, you're possessing the Mark-”

Dean pulled up his right sleeve to reveal the Mark as Magnus spoke. “-.the Mark of Cain.” Magnus' eyes shifted to the Mark and he leaned in in awe. Question raised in his features. “Oh, my. How did you come by that?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Listen, if Abaddon takes over, the one thing she wants more than anything is to make hell on earth. Not even you can escape that.” Magnus laughed to himself, snapping his fingers. “And they say all hunters are morons. It's right there behind you.”

We turned around and there it was, the First Blade on display. We stood up, surprised by its presence. Dean turned back towards Magnus. “Listen, if you're serious about taking action, this-this is taking action. You loan us that Blade, and we will stop the bitch.” Magnus hummed once again.

“Hmm. Let me think about it.” He turned around and pinched some green powder from a tray on the end table. “All right, I've thought about it.” Before either Sam or I could react, he blew the powder in our faces and recited a spell, making us turn into a puff of smoke.

 

+++

Sam and I rushed through the woods back to the Impala, Crowley waiting bored by it. “Magnus has Dean.” I rushed to Crowley as I waited for Sam to open the trunk. Sam opened it and we started digging through the trunk to find anything to help us get back inside. Crowley leaned in to take a peek and Sam drew the demon knife as an intimidation. “You mind?” Crowley backed off instantly.

“Who would have thunk it, eh, moose, snake- you and me, same team, in the trenches. When this is over, we can get matching tattoos.” I rolled my eyes at the pet names and tapped the file box in the trunk. Sam looked over, took the file box and walked over to the passenger side and sat in the passenger seat to look through it. “Just to be clear, Crowley, we are not on the same anything. By the way, since the place is warded, your powers are useless, which means you are useless, even more so than usual.” Sam sassed, pointing at the demon with the knife.

“If memory serves me, I'm the one who helped your brother find Cain so that we could find the Blade so that Dean could receive the Mark. I'm the one who flushed that lout Gadreel out of your noggin. So, lately, big boy, I've seen more playing time than you.” Sam sighed in irritation. “Crowley, will you please shut the hell up?”

 

+++

We’d been out for hours and the sky has already turned dark. Sam and I were still looking through files by lantern light. Sam stopped, quickly reading over a file. “Here's something. Apparently, he wanted to make the entire Men of Letters bunker invisible. All physical points of entry were to be eliminated, "and entrance would only be gained by a spell."

Sam handed me the file and I looked it over. “Oh. We're gonna need some things. You actually might turn out to be useful, Crowley.” I shot. I passed the paper to Crowley and he was gone. Sam and I were sitting in the Impala, doors open as we waited.

“I don’t like this.” I started. Sam continued to look forward, “Like what?” I looked around, letting out a heavy breath. My fingers starting fiddling with each other and I had to force them to stop. “The Mark. The First Blade back in his hands…” Sam looked at me with tinted eyes and before he could say anything, Crowley appeared with a bag of items. We grabbed a bowl and Sam started mixing the items.

“I did good, eh, moose? Everything on the list. You're welcome.” Crowley pointed out childishly. Sam evidently tried to ignore him and I couldn’t help but love watching the interaction between the two. He stood up, holding the bowl out. “Remember, stay close, do what I say, and shut the hell up.” Crowley smiled, “I'm growing on you, aren't I?”

Sam recited a spell and the smokey door that let us in before reopened and the three of us walked in. Crowley looked around, “Love what he's done with the place.” We heard footsteps coming down the hallway and we ducked around a corner. Magnus was putting a map in a drawer and Sam took that as his moment as his back was to us and put a knife to his throat. “Take me to my brother.”

I pulled out my gun and walked to the other side in case something turned sideways. I heard Dean call out to his brother and I quickened my pace. When I made it to the living room, Dean was tied up to a column and the Magnus in Sams hold turned into someone else. He grabbed the knife from Sam and tried to stab him. Sam quickly recovered and stabbed him first. I was now standing behind the real Magnus and I pointed my gun at him as he pointed Dean’s gun at Sam. “Shape-shifter. You see? There are benefits to keeping a zoo.”

“Then where are your other pets?” I said, revealing my position. “Ah, you spoke too soon huntress.” And like that, I felt a sharp snap in the back of my head looking all sight and feeling.

 

Regaining conscious was one of the worst feelings. First, you have to know where you are, how you got there and how you’re going to get out of it. Then comes the pain and remembrance of what happened right before you were knocked out, which can be a bit hazy. Magnus was occupied by Sam and an accidental groan left my lips, making him turn to me. I got a peak of Sam behind him and a slash on his cheek meant I had the same fate. Dean started thrashing his chains in panic.

“Or maybe she’ll be the one to make you say yes,” Magnus said to Dean as he looked me over. Dean thrashed once again and I held my head up high, not intimidated by his approach. Without a word, Magnus placed the blade on my collar bone and dragged it down to my chest. I hissed as the blood began to leak from the cut. He took another slice on my jaw and I groaned angrily.

There was a sound of dropping chains and Sam, Magnus and I looked over to where Dean was. But nothing but a pile of chains were left. Magnus was going to strike me fully but Dean appeared behind him and held his arm with the weapon and beheaded Magnus with the First Blade and Mark of Cain glowing a bright red.

Dean was still holding the Blade in his shaking right hand. His eyes were dark, hungry looking. Nothing like when he killed Eric, more sinister. His eyes were watching someone and I gently started to call his name but it was evident he heard none of it. Dean turned his eyes to the Blade and his arm that was still glowing hot. His lips started to turn in a snarl and it evilly complimented the darkened look. I felt myself grow more urgent.

“Drop the Blade, Dean.” Nothing. “Dean!” Suddenly the darkness in his eyes faded as he looked up at me. I held his gaze a little confused at the blades effect, “Drop the Blade.” He let go of the Blade and let it drop to the floor. He started to undo my chains without a word and Crowley snapped, making Sam’s chains fall all at once.

On our way back to the Impala Crowley, as always, broke the silence. “Brilliant, I must say. I'm speaking of myself, of course. All you three managed to do was get trussed up. Combine a little derring-do on my part, a little dumb muscle from squirrel, a little bleeding from moose, everlasting venom spilled from snake…” As we approached the car, it was raided and a mess but Crowley continued his selfish speech. “... Happy ending. Roll credits.”

Dean rushed to the car, “No, no! Come on. What the hell?” The Impala’s doors were open and everything looks like it has been tossed in a search of something. Dean started checking everything to see if it was okay. Sam lifted his fingers and a sandy colored powder coated them. “That's sulfur. Demons.” He frowned.

“Abaddons. Well, she's just one jump behind us. Guess she couldn't find Magnus' joint, either. What about the trunk?” Dean asked quickly. Sam opened it, “Safe. Warding kept them out.” Dean frowned, thoroughly pissed at the state of his car. “Demon mitts all over my baby.”

I backed out of the back seat and shut the door, gritting my teeth at the sight. Dean must have heard me because he rounded to my side quickly. “Oh, come on!! Oh, now they're keying cars?!” He shouted as he kneeled down for a better look. I crossed my arms, “What language is that?” Crowley spoke up, “It's Enochian. The message isn't for you. It's for me. "Be afraid. Your Queen." Abaddon's getting more brazen. She thinks I'm losing my grip.”

I was about to say something but Sam was calling to his brother whos anger was emitting from him. He got up with every ounce of anger still pouring out. “Listen, you said Crowley was only useful till we got the Blade. We got the Blade.” Dean’s eyes flickered to Crowley and Crowley made his move, flinging the three of us to the side of the car, holding us there. The First Blade fell from Sam's hand to the ground. Crowley picked the blade up.

“You know, I'm in debt to you. You forced sobriety on me, and now I can see the situation for what it is. Dean, you are quite the killing machine. And it occurs to me that Abaddon is not the only name on your list. My name must be up there, as well.”

“It's no good to you without me.” Dean scowled. “Yes, but as long as I have it, it's no good to you.” Crowley retorted, drawing the Blade and holding it in his hand. “Now, this is the way it's going to go- I'll hang on to old donkey teeth here until such time as you locate Abaddon. Then you'll destroy her. You're right, moose. You can't trust me. But, sadly, I can't trust you, either.” He smiled briefly before he disappeared, releasing us from the side of the car.

 


	29. Obsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Blood, vandalism, mentions of insomnia, Demon Nuns (Yes I'm serious)  
> EP: 9x17

A few days later, Dean was barely sleeping and only having eyes on finding Abaddon. Once I woke up in the mornings or late at night, I joined him. He tried to push me back to sleep but there were nights the only thing I could think about was his well being. Even if there was nothing well left.

Sam walked into the kitchen as I was making coffee, he had a duffle and file, no doubt on his way for a case. “Coffee?” I asked, gesturing with the pot. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.” I handed him a cup and he drank it slowly. I sat down at the table, “Are we all headed for a case?”

“Deans not. He’s- a little obsessed at the moment. I was hoping you’d check it out with me.” I sipped my coffee in a long stride. “I should probably stay and help with the search. The quicker we get this over with, the quicker he’ll be back to normal… I hope.” Sam smiled briefly before drinking the last bits of his coffee and washing his cup in the sink. He placed the cup upside down next to the coffee maker and kissed the crown of my head. “Call me if anything.” I nodded and he walked off.

I poured another cup and grabbed the plate of food I made and walked to the paper tornado library. Dean was pouring over letters, files, books, and film scattered across the table with the addition of a filled up whiskey bottle. “I see you started without me. Here, you need to eat.” Dean continued to read over files as if he didn't hear me. “Dean.” He looked up and I saw a tint of anger in his eyes before it faded.

“Eat it or don’t, it’s here.” I put the plate down and grabbed files from the table before sitting down across from him. The Mark wasn’t kind to any of us. The first aftermath was nowhere near as enraging as this one. Dean was more snappy and all Sam and I could do was watch. A few days felt like a long time, the wounds from Magnus hadn’t even healed yet.

After a few hours of silent researching, I threw the file in my hand on the table and groaned. “How is it that we’ve gone through almost half of the archive and there’s not a single thing that can help us?” Dean looked up from his file and pursed his lips slightly. “Why don’t you take a break. You look exhausted.” I forced the low energy away and tried to fight staying. “No, I’m fine. The quicker we find her, the quicker this’ll be over.”

I started to grab a file from the pile of “to be searched” files and Dean placed his hand on top of mine, stopping me completely. “I know you want to help but this is going to take a while anyway. Get some shut-eye for a few.” I sighed as I gave up my fight. I only had about 2 hours of sleep the previous night because I was too hellbent on thinking about the Mark and Dean.

I stood from my chair and stretched a little. I walked over to Dean and put my arms around him from the back, leaning my face into his neck. “We’re gonna find her, okay? Don’t work too hard.” Dean turned his head and pressed a lasting kiss on my lips. I slowly pulled away and his eyes fluttered open, “okay.” he said softly. I walked off and as soon as my head hit the bed, I swept into a deep sleep.

+++

My phone ringing felt like an alarm that wouldn’t stop after you hit snooze. I didn’t bother to look at the caller ID as I picked up. “Hello, sheriff- Rodney here... ” I felt myself dozing back into sleep when a voice overly spoke into the phone.

“Britt? Are you drunk?” I felt myself wake up a little more. “No, I just woke up.” I let the phone blind me for a split second as I read the caller, Sam. I sat up and walked to the library where I was going to put the phone on speaker for Dean to hear. “Well, Dean isn’t going to help me so I thought that you might.”

To my luck, Dean was gone and so was his jacket. “Son of a- Where is he?” I asked, frustrated.

“What do you mean? Isn’t he there?”

“No, smartass. If he was, I wouldn’t be asking!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, he probably just went out to a bar or something. Are you going to help me out?” He asked. I sighed, “Text me the address.” I hung up and instantly got a text. I scrolled through my contact list and called Dean. After about 5 rings, he finally answered.

 

 **Dean POV**  
I swallowed the little beer in my mouth before answering my most likely upset girlfriend. “Hey.” She skipped formalities as I assumed. “Where are you?”

“I ran out of booze. I’m just getting a drink at the bar. I’ll be home soon. You okay?” I could feel her calm over the phone from my answer. Her voice softened after. “I am now. Dean, you can’t just leave like that. Especially-” I cut her off, my new temper getting the best of me. “Especially what?”

She sighed, “You know what...” I felt a sourness roll off my tongue. “I’m fine, thanks. I’m sure Sam called you to help out. You should go.”

“Dean-” I hung up before she finished and I took a swing of my second beer. When I went to put it down I slowly realized how harsh I was and felt regret. “I always thought you two would end up together. If she finds out about us, that’s definitely not going to happen.” Crowley remarked sassily in the booth in front of me.

 

+++

"What do you want?" I spat at Crowley as I was racking up the pool balls in their respective triangle rack. "You tell me, Romeo. You rang. Let me guess- you butt-dialed me?" I organized the pool balls in the correct order trying to distract myself from the demon's presence. "Whatever the hell that is. Either way, we done here?"

"Actually, long as I'm here, last time we chitchatted, we agreed that you were gonna line up Carrot Top." I pushed the triangle up the table and took the rack off. "Yep, well... I'm on it." I walked over to the pool sticks and grabbed one, looking for the chalk. 

"Unless Abaddon likes 10-cent wings, stale beer, and the clap, I doubt that she's here." Crowley cleared his throat and held the chalk in his hand. "Go to hell."

"Oh, if only. What's going on with you, huh? You call me, you hang up. You want Abaddon, you don't want Abaddon. You want the Blade, you don't want the Blade. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you're stalling." I retracted the stick in my hand and lined it up with the white ball before breaking. I walked over to the other side of the table opposite to Crowley and lined up for my next shot. 

 

Crowley leaned on the table, "Just between us girls, how did you feel when you sunk the First Blade into Magnus' head?" I looked up before I took the shot. "Not half as good as I'm gonna feel when it's yours." I took the shot and made it in.

I tried to tune him out. I tried. I tried to think of Britt, how sorry I was, or how sorry I should be because, in all honesty, I wasn't. And that's not okay. Hell, _I'm_ not okay. 

"Love it when you talk dirty." Crowley walked over and smoothly picked the white ball up from the table. I let my jaw slack and put my tongue in my cheek as he walked over to me, ball in hand. "You know what I think? I think you felt powerful... Virile... And afraid." 

I scoffed, "Afraid?"

"Don't scam a scam artist, darling. You're stalling 'cause you're scared." I looked down at the ball in his hand and he placed it on the table. 

 

**Britts POV**

I was leaning on my car in the first of the night and was waiting for Sam when I zoned out distracted by my surroundings. A creepy, abandoned, gated church. 

“Good. You’re here.” I turned my head and saw Sam walking towards me with a flashlight in hand. 

“Yeah, I was about to turn into the motel when you called. So why are we here?” He led us on our way to the entrance of the church. “Word is, Abaddon has been planning to take over Hell for a while. There was a skirmish here in 1958 between the Men of Letters and demons. What happened then seems to be happening again.”

With that we walked inside, searching the grounds. On the mistakes of splitting up in the past, we decided to stick together. Sam opened a door into a hallway and nothing strange was found. I found a set of stairs and called Sam over before we both walked down.

After wandering around, Sam stumbled upon a shelf and called me over. There were 5 bottles full of white light, balls of energy.

Souls.

Before either of us could pick one up, Sam was attacked but he quickly killed whoever it was with the demon knife. Both of us were then thrown back into a pile of boxes by a possessed nun.

“Souls are a very... precious and fragile thing. Break one of those, and them little buggers fly right back home. We can't have that, now can we?” She smiled as Sam and I were groaning in pain. “So, after all these years, you're still doing Abaddon's dirty work, huh, Agnes?” Sam taunted as he still sat on the floor, leaning on a wooden post. 

“Would you believe it's gotten even dirtier? Used to be folks believed in the church. Heck, the way they would come strolling in here, looking for God. It was like fish in a barrel, really. But times change. You can blame your perverts for that. Now I'm riding shotgun in some smelly van with a handyman and tricking any half-wit I can lay my hands on. But it's worth it.” the possessed nun, now known as Sister Agnes, smiled evilly as she kicked the demon Sam killed just minutes ago. 

“Because... Stealing souls is so noble.” Sam sassed. Agnes yelled in correction, “Stealing souls is winning!” She kicked Sam back as he tried to get up.

I laughed, interrupting their macho showdown. “Winning what exactly?”

“Hell's crown, nimrod. You think Abaddon is just gonna sit there while those pantywaisted demons refuse to pick a side?! And so she made a plan- if you can't convince 'em, make 'em.” I stood up looking over at the jars. “She's turning souls into demons?” Sam asked. 

Sister Agnes hummed, “A demon army, unbeatable, loyal only to her.” Sam looked over at the very few jars and laughed lightheartedly as he leaned on the wooden pole for support. “Well, uh... At this rate... Should only take a couple million years. Have fun with that.” Sister Agnes grew a sour expression, “You think I'm the only one doing this? We have factories spread throughout. Worry not, though. Victory is nigh. And we'd like you to be on our team. Recruitment is easy. I just have to rip your soul out of your body.”

I gave her a tired look as Sam gave her an 'over my dead body' look and started to exorcise her. Before the first few words could continue, Sister Agnes rushed to Sam and started choking him with her hands. “Please!” she begged. I was trying to pull her off of him but her grip was too strong. I picked up where the exorcism left off and she turned around, throwing me off of her. Sam pulled out his phone from his pocket and started to play a recorded exorcism which fell out of his hands and slid across the room. 

Sister Agnes grew less powerful the longer the exorcism played and fell to the floor. She crawled towards the phone trying to get it there before the exorcism finished and smashed it.

I grabbed the demon knife that had been long tossed and kicked her over to her back, stabbing her in the chest. Orange flashed internally throughout her body as she died and I huffed in exhaustion. Sam gave me a hand to help me up and we walked over to the shelf of jars, limping slightly from the lack of energy. 

"Let's get these babies home." I smiled. Sam and I grabbed a jar and opened it, watching the ball of white light float into the air and out of the window. Then proceeded with the other three. 

Sam and I drove to the police station but I stayed in my car waiting for Sam to get back to the Impala as he spoke to an older woman, no doubt our helper for the case. Once he said his goodbyes, I trailed behind him on our way back to the Bunker, challenging him on empty highways.

Finally home, me and Sam walked through the garage and walked to the War Room where Dean could be seen sitting in the library like he hadn't moved all day. He glanced up for a moment and I acknowledged him briefly as I grabbed some books in the “to be read” pile and head off to my room, sure that Sam would've updated him.

As much as I should've been drilling Dean with questions, I never considered myself to be a clingy type of person. I was just worried. Really worried. But Dean was just getting a drink. That's no crime. It just scared the crap out of me to even think of what else could've happened. 

 

**Dean’s POV**

It was the start of a now distanced relationship with Britt. I could feel it. I snapped on her more than once in the past three days and I knew it was insensitive and careless but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to care enough about it to stop my search for Abaddon. At least at the moment.

Sam finished his descent down the stairs and I knew he was bound to ask. “What was that all about?” He asked, eyebrows raised as walked up to me. “I hung up on her after I snapped a little. I’ll apologize eventually.” I didn’t look up to see Sams reaction but if there was one, he didn’t bother to vocalize on it. “Still plugging away?” He asked afterward, not pushing the topic of Britt onto me.

I sighed, “Like a dog with a bone. You?” He grabbed some files from the table and went to sit at the other table. He started to read the top file but stopped. “You were right.” He said. “About what?”

“Finding Abaddon ASAP. She's mining souls.” I sat up, extremely concerned. “Why?”

“To create an army.”

 

**Britt’s POV**

I showered and readied myself for a long night. One that was once again sleepless at the thought of the Mark’s power over Dean. Sam came in at one point to give me a plate of dinner but just as Dean hadn’t eaten his breakfast from obsession, I hadn’t eaten from the investment. The dinner Sam gave me wasn’t consumed until early morning the next day. I’m talking 3, 4 am. Dean came into my room slowly close to 5 and was surprised to see me awake.

“Hey.” He said softly as he let himself in. “Hi,” I said coldly, not bothering to look up. He stepped over the piles of paper and books and slid down the wall to sit opposite from me. He sighed, “What are you doing”

“I’m researching. I’m sure Sam told you about Abaddon’s army.”

“He did.” He crossed one of his legs under the other knee before he continued. “I’m sorry-” I cut him off before he could continue anymore. “Don’t apologize. You were right to be invested in Abaddon. I should be sorry because I thought you were being an obsessed A-hole shutting everyone out but it was us who should’ve joined your supposed obsession.” I laughed a little towards the end.

I knew my appearance must have seemed a mess. The messy half up half down hair definitely had its flaws and even though I washed my face I felt like from all the research had made my eyes stream with mascara streaks. Dean watched me as I read over lore and all was quiet. “You’re exhausted.” I looked up to see his concerned expression. “I’m fine-”

“No, you’re not. Come here.” He said, stretching his arm out. I huffed a sigh and crawled to sit next to him as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I laid my head on his shoulder feeling the sleep I tried to fight take over just as Dean had planned.

 


	30. Trade with the New God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Steamy, Demons, mentions of death, mentions of kidnapping, talks of poor self-worth, blood, etc. (Just let me know if there's more)  
> EPISODE: 9x18

I walked up behind Dean as he stood in front of a steamy mirror in the Bunkers showers. While I was fully dressed with jeans and a band t-shirt, all he had was a towel around his hips and never had I wanted to reverse time so much back to 10 minutes ago and walk right on into the showers. I kissed his shoulder in greeting but his gaze was lost at the sight of the Mark. He ripped himself away from it seconds later.

“You okay?” I asked, softness in my voice. “Yeah, fine.” He responded normally as he turned around in my arms. I put a hand on his cheek and he leaned into the feeling, closing his eyes.

“Dean Winchester,” He hummed in response, fluttering his eyes open. “The way you look at yourself in the mirror is all too familiar. Don’t do that to yourself.” He looked into my eyes and leaned down to connect our lips. Dean tried to take things further but I put my hands on his chest and playfully pushed him away, smiling. “Go get dressed, we have another long day ahead of us.” Dean groaned before sulking back to his room.

In the War Room, Sam and I were pouring over more files laid out on the lit up map table when he got a call which he had been getting from hunters who’d seen a vast amount of demon activity in a single area. Dean walked in and stood next to Sam, as I was on the opposite side.

“Anything?” He asked as Sam placed a sticky note on the map placing it ont he location of another mass demon sighting. “Yeah. A dozen demon-related cases, people without souls acting out, but…” Dean finished his sentence, “But no sign of Abaddon.” We continued to exchange information and focus on the task at hand. Files led to nothing, useless information was consumed, all building up to a headache for later on.

We were standing around the table when Deans phone started to ring. He pulled the phone out of his pocket, put it on speaker and placed it on the table.

“Hello, Dean.” an all too knowing deep voice said through the phone.

“Hey, Cas. You’re on speaker, what’s up?”

“I’m afraid I have some news you might not be too happy with...” He dragged.

“Gadreel is working for Metatron. He’s been slaughtering angels that won’t side with Metatron and those that do are granted passage into Heaven.” Sam grew angry quicker than I could even register it. “Gadreel? Gadreel is working for Metatron? For how long?”

Cas sighed, “I don't know.” Dean looked over at me.

“So, Metatron made Gadreel kill Kevin?” He asked angrily.

“It would explain a lot, and there have been no new prophets, which Metatron could have fixed to his advantage.” 

“I thought the spell to return angels to heaven was irreversible. How are they doing that?” I asked. Sam addressed my question, “That's what Crowley said. Look, let's just find Gadreel and... and beat some answers out of him.” I pointed a finger at him, liking the idea. “I like that. Yeah, we could do that.”

“Yeah, here's something to start with that. Uh... Hold on, I'm, uh... Sending you a photo of the symbol that drew all the angels in.” Sam rounded to the end of the table and opened his computer. The three of us sat down as we waited for the photo to pop up. “It's acting as some kind of angel siren. I think it's a spell. The ingredients used to create it were very odd... Griffin feathers, bones of a fairy. I've never seen it before.”

I shook my head when Sam silently asked if I’d seen it before. “Yeah. Me, neither. All right. Let me see what I can find.” Sam said as he tuned into his computer.

There was silence over the line for a moment before Cas’ confused voice echoed through. “'Honor bar." What's honorable about a miniature bar in a motel room?” I laughed to myself as Dean smiled at his friend's innocence. “Everything.” He responded.

“How are you, Dean?” Cas asked. Dean looked up to see Sam awaiting his response but Dean answered in the same tone as Cas has asked. “I'm fine, Cas. How 'bout you?”

Cas answered wistfully, “I miss my wings. Life on the road... smells.”

Dean chucked and agreed with a hum and I squinted at the interaction playfully. “Could you two not flirt in front of me?” Sam laughed under his breath and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. Listen, I got a match, and it's not from the lore... it's from police records. Looks like that symbol you found was spotted at a handful of crime scenes the last couple days, all multiple homicides.” My eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“And where were these crime scenes?” Cas asked.

“Uh, Utah... Baker, Hill Valley.”

“And I'm in Bishop's Falls, Utah.”

“Also looks like most of the crime scenes were in industrial areas,” Sam added. “Looks like Gadreel is heading north,” Cas said slowly.

Dean leaned in, “What's the next big town?”

“There are two. It could be Auburn or Ogden.”

I leaned into the phone, “All right, you take Auburn, we'll take Ogden... meet in the middle.” Dean hung up soon after that and looked as if was thinking about something. He asked his brother if they had worked a case in Ogden and he confirmed that they did. Witches in fact. But there was someone who helped them so they contacted them first before we headed their way.

 

+++

We pulled up to a shop called Ian’s shop in the nighttime and we searched the place with our flashlights. All around the shop were items used for spells. Little things here and there like powders, sands, animal bones, everything.

“Got an open box of feathers over here,” Dean said. Moments later, Sam called us to him. Inside the closet, a guy, presumably Ian, was dead inside and had his eyes angel-burned out. Dean looked at his brother. “We got to find Gadreel before he lights up the bat signal.”

In a dark alley, we spotted a man and Dean warned me that that was Gadreel in his original meat suit. He was tall and white with short, hazel hair no longer than Deans and clothed in a black hoodie, purple undershirt, and dark blue jeans. I encouraged the idea to set a trap and we did just that with holy fire. Laid with holy oil and set to flames, the only thing known to hold angels as far as we knew. Sam set himself as bait and Gadreel walked right into the trap. Dean dropped his lighter from a fire escape above, igniting the ring of holy fire around the angel.

 

+++

We, more like I, was able to disable Gadreel long enough to take him to an abandoned factory and tie him up to a chair. I had never wanted to kill something so badly. Not all at once. The man responsible for Kevin was right in front of us, and he had the nerve to put on a brave front.

“If this is like looking into a funhouse mirror for me, I cannot imagine what it is like for you.” Gadreel addressed to Sam who was barely controlling his anger. “How long have you been working for Metatron?" Gadreel found no amusement in Sam’s question. “I will not talk, and you cannot make me.” I was ready to jump in and show him a piece of my mind, more so my fist, but I held back knowing Sam had more of an issue with the angel than any of us.

“I have been you, Sam Winchester. Your insides reek of shame and weakness.” Like I planned to do seconds ago, Sam acted after Gadreels comment. He moved to punch him again and Dean jumped in front of him, pressing his hand to his brother's chest and pushing him away to talk, leaving me with Gadreel.

“Britt Malloway. So you've stayed to hear Sam’s thoughts on you?” He started. I crossed my arms, “I don't really give a crap what anyone thinks but I assume you'll share with the class anyway.” He laughed to himself and I rolled my eyes. “Why do you even bother? I don't have to say anything and the torture you endure on yourself will always be worse. No wonder Sam left you to the dirt while Dean was in Purgatory. Some random girl was worth more than some suicidal hunter.” I felt hot tears build up behind my brave front and punched the angel square in the jaw. "Screw you." 

I didn't think the brothers would've noticed my hit but when I turned around to talk to them their eyes were on me. "Yeah, I can't stay here,” I said straight-faced. Dean turned to me, “Good, you can go with Sam and find Cas. I got this."

Sam and I took one last look at the tied up angel before walking off and tracking Cas’ phone to a motel. We snuck up to the door with guns loaded and opened the door, surprised it wasn't locked and filed in. 

Cas' room was normal but when we turned to look at the walls, everything was covered in photos of faces and maps. On the nightstand, I picked up Cas’ phone and saw 6 missed called from Dean and showed it to Sam. Hearing movement that wasn't our own, I quickly pointed it in a second. Sam followed.

“Easy there, tigers. I'm here to trade. You have something of mine, and I have something of yours. Bring him here tomorrow, say… 6:00-ish? If not, Castiel dies. No comebacks this time.” I wanted to pull the trigger, but it would’ve been dumb of me considering it wouldn't have done anything. Damn celestial beings. One shot, no more problems but nooo.

Sam raised a brow, “An even trade?” Metatron smiled weirdly, “I'm an entity of my word.” Sam and I sighed and he nodded, agreeing to the trade. After our Metatron interaction, Sam and I were trying to get a hold of Dean but he wasn’t answering. We jumped back into the Impala and drove back to his location. “So why didn’t you want to stay?” Sam asked, making conversation in the short ride. I wanted to ignore his question after what Gadreel told me but I chose to leave it be.

“He got under my skin while you two were talking.” Sam visibly clenched his jaw. “What did he say?” He asked, briefly looking at me before reverting back to the road. “Doesn’t matter.” I leaned into my seat and looked out the window, letting silence suffocate us.

 

+++

We pulled up to the factory and got back to the room where Gadreel and Dean were supposed to be but on first glance, the chair Gadreel was tied to was overturned and there was a lot of blood pooling on the floor. We called out to Dean and got no response. Sam and I rushed around the room for clues when I saw him on the far end of the room propped on the wall and unconscious. I rushed over and he stirred. Sam placed himself next to me, worried about his brother.

“Dean. Hey! Are... are you okay?” Sam asked as Dean woke up as if he were in a daze and not unconscious like we thought. I picked up his hands and noticed it's bloodiness. I wrapped a piece of cloth around it and realized it wasn't his blood. "Yeah. Yeah, you got to stop asking me that.” He said breathlessly. I focused my eyes forward and saw a very bloody and unconscious Gadreel on the floor. Sam continued to worry about his brother. “I've been calling you. I mean, w-why didn't you…” I tapped his shoulder and pointed to the other side of us. His eyebrows raised in surprise.

“He won't talk.” Dean sighed. “I figured.” Sam and I said simultaneously. Dean looked desperately at us both. “He wanted to die, and I was gonna kill him. I was. But then I stopped 'cause I know we need him to talk.” I sighed and briefly looked at Gadreel. “Metatron has Cas. He's offering a trade.” I said, already feeling the distrust radiating off of Dean. “We can't trust Metatron.” He responded.

Sam looked at his brother. “We know that. Obviously. But look, this is the first time we're gonna know for sure where Metatron is. Let's take Gadreel to the meet-up, make the exchange, and then trap Metatron.” I stood up and Sam helped Dean up. I walked over to Gadreel, grabbing his ankles and dragging him across the floor and outside to the Impala, intentionally hitting his head on things.

 

+++

We were waiting by the Impala outside of Cas' hotel room for Metatron. “He's late.” Sam pointed out impatiently. “Or he's not gonna show,” Dean added. With that, Metatron appeared out of thin air.

“Of course I'm gonna show. I was just waiting for you two to finish setting up your little trap for me.” I clenched my jaw and he continued milking us. “Uh... Am I hitting my mark? Well, come on. Let's go. I'm waiting.” Dean threw down a lit lighter and lit up a burning holy fire circle around the pain in the ass scribe. Metatron faked his agony and erupted with laughter.

“Either of you bring s'mores? Holy Fire always gives them a delightful minty aftertaste.” He warmed his hands in the fire and smiled, “Make a wish, kids.” Metatron blew out the holy flames with a breath. We moved for an attack and he just flicked his wrist to send us back to the car, stuck in place.

He walked towards the trunk of the Impala and flicked the angel warding off. “Bye-bye.” Gadreel got out of the trunk and a car pulled up. Gadreel held my gaze, neither challenging me nor looking sympathetic. Dean’s voice shifted my gaze to Metatron.

“Why are you doing this?” he scowled. “Because I can. Because you and your little brother and your girlfriend and your fine, feathered friend and all those secrets you've got locked away in your bunker can't stop me. But I am gonna enjoy watching you try. It's gonna be a hell of a show. I'll see you around, Castiel. Never forget I gave you a chance.” I looked over at Cas who was squinting angrily at the being.

Metatron flashed out with Gadreel and the power he used to hold us against the car faded soon after. I looked around in frustration, noticing the very low sun. “Somebody want to tell me what the hell's going on here?” Dean yelled at no one in particular. “Metatron is trying to play God,” Cas said, stepping in front of the three of us. Sam leaned in furiously, “Play God? Cas, he erased angel warding. He friggin' blew out Holy Fire. He is God! He's powering up with the angel tablet. How the hell are we supposed to stop this guy?” I crossed my arms, angered from the day so far. “We could burn an angel blade into bullets so I could put a few through his skull…”

Deans body shifted towards me and he pointed at me, “That’s not a bad idea but, we’d need to get to him first.” He turned back to Cas. “So what if there is a stairway to heaven? We find it and get a drop on the guy.” Sam perked up at this, “You want to sneak onto the Death Star, take out the emperor?” I smiled at the Star Wars reference and Cas, the unknowing child he is, just squinted.

“Okay, I... I'm not sure what a fictional battle station in space has to do with this, but if taking out the emperor means taking out Metatron, I'm on board.” The brothers and I exchanged confused looks and Dean stepped up, “Wait, did you... did you just understand a Death Star reference?” He smiled.

“Yeah, I think so. But I don't understand what that has to do with heaven.” I laughed a little and shrugged, “Baby steps.” Dean made sure Cas was alright and he agreed, relapsing the question. “There's something different about you.” Sam and I watched the interaction and waited for his response. Dean pat Cas on the shoulder, “I'm fine.” Before he could pull away, Cas grabbed his arm with his eyebrows knitting together and pushed the sleeve up to reveal the Mark in all its horrid glory. Cas’ eyes darkened as he glared at Dean. “What have you done?” Dean yanked his hand back. “It's a means to an end.”

“Dammit, Dean.” Dean shoved comment away and addressed him, “Look, you find heaven, you drop a dime. Meantime, I got a knight to kill.” Dean stomped to the driver side of the car and I stayed in place with Sam. “Maybe I should stay, help out. Leadership can be tough, Cas.”

“Thank you.” He said, nodding my way. I turned around and got into the passenger seat to talk to Dean. “Hey. I’m gonna stay with Cas and help him figure things out with the angels and whatnot.” He nodded his head, “Be careful, okay?”

“Of course.” He leaned in and I met him halfway with a kiss. He let his hand linger on my cheek once we pulled away and we stared at each other for a moment. “What?” I laughed, “Nothing, I just- I-” He tried to finish his words but seemed like he couldn’t and I was taken aback, thinking this was his attempt at professing the love we hadn’t announced yet. I leaned in for another kiss hoping it would give him confidence but he just smiled. “Hey,” I said softly, smiling. “No rush.” He looked lovingly into my eyes and I pecked his plump lips. I reached into the backseat to grab my bag and got out of the car.

Sam was waiting by the door and I almost shoved into him. “My bad, Sam. Hey, good luck with more research.” He flashed a quick smirk, “And good luck with the angels, you’re gonna need it.” we laughed at the absurdity of his statement and hugged. I walked over to Cas and watched the Impala drive off.

Cas and I walked into the hotel room and I placed my bag on the bed. “So, what now?” Cas stood opposite to me. “First I want to apologize. I know a lot happened in my extended absence before we last saw each other and I should’ve been there to help." I reached out to him. “Cas, you don’t have to apologize. You were busy with protecting the Angel Tablet, and Metatron, and Naomi, and other stuff probably. Really, it's okay.” His blue eyes saddened as he looked at me. “Dean filled me in while Crowley was removing Gadreel from Sam and you were kidnapped, which I didn't know about until I healed you from your wounds... But I could’ve lifted the witches curse and saved you from near death.” I sighed at the memory and sat down on the bed, Cas slowly sitting next to me.

“Think of it like this: If you cured me, I wouldn’t have known about my dad being an abusive dick and gone on still feeling his death on my shoulders.” he remained neutral, as he usually did. “That’s true. I think Heavens biggest mistake was allowing that as your childhood." I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Just like Sam and Dean's parents were put together by heaven to make sure they were born to have the life they do, the same was set for you. You are important, Britt. Heaven always saw big plans for you.” I felt taken aback by the revelation but I would’ve rather knocked out on the bed than continue talking about whatever disaster heaven had in mind for me.

As if he read my mind, which he probably did, Cas stood up. “You should get some rest. We’ll get started in the morning.” Angels don’t sleep so there was no reason to converse who was getting the bed. That night I got a few hours of sleep and woke up just before sunrise. I noticed a blood drawn sigil on the door when I walked out of the bathroom from getting ready. Cas was seated on the bed and it started to glow a white light.

I raised an eyebrow and Cas stood up and walked towards the door. He smiled briefly before opening it and outside there were over 20 people waiting. Angels, I presumed. Cas motioned them to gather closer and I put a hand on his shoulder from behind. “Lead the way, feathers.” I smiled, happy from the turnout.


	31. Second in Command

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Anxiety, Suicide Bombers, Kidnapping (I don't think there's more)  
> Episode: between 9x19 and 9x20

Cas and I found a large stable building and just like that, the angels made it their NASA-like HQ. It was so advanced it looked like a real command center, which I guess it now was. The large main room now had walls that played as a map, red and yellow dots alike. Red for Metatron angel sighting and yellow for angels found after the fall who were yet to take a side. The spy-like equipment and tracking devices partnered with computers and at first sight, you would think that it was an FBI unit and I started to wonder if this is what heaven was like for them. They transitioned so easily. No questions about the technology, how to do things, nothing. But of course, that made things easier for me to focus on Metatron, which was a priority for all.

I’d been keeping my distance from the angels in HQ but it was hard to stay away from their gullibleness and ignorance. Any reference to anything was useless, why I changed my attire was a mystery, and the only issues I had was those that believed I, Britt, shouldn’t be involved in such a “dangerous” mission. But of course, I couldn’t say what I so desperately wanted to because a smiting is only a snap away. I stood by a printer and waited for the photos of angels vessels under Metatrons control to take to Cas’ office.

Once the photos finished printing, I walked into Cas’ office and he was just dismissing a few angels from a meeting. The angels all nodded in my direction as they left and I walked over to Cas spreading out the photos onto a table.

“They really like you, Commander.” I stretched, teasing the title the angels appointed him. Cas playfully ignored the tease. “They like being given orders, authority. It has nothing to do with me.” I laughed at his ridiculous claim. They held roll call for the sole purpose of hearing him say their names. “Thank you, Britt. I don’t think things would be this smooth without your help.” I stood up straight after I finished laying the photos out. I mirrored Cas’ light smile and was about to respond, telling him that his progress had nothing to do with me when I noticed something different.

“Where’s your tie?” Ever since we met, Castiel had always worn an ocean blue tie with his black suit and tan trench coat. I had never seen him in anything else except when he was human unless I was caught up in the moment to notice it.

Cas looked down for a moment and looked back up, “I wanted to switch things up a bit.” I smiled, “Okay.” I was about to leave for a collective update on the Metatron search when Cas stopped me. “The angels have been talking and discussing your presence here. You’ve been so helpful and compassionate in the little time you’ve been around them and they demanded you have an official title.” I wanted to object, to stop him right there. Leadership wasn’t something I thought of myself having. I was doing fine, I was already treated like one but a title would’ve made it so final. It would’ve made it seem like I was something I wasn’t. I didn’t know if I could live up to their expectations.

“So, I’ve appointed you as Captain, my second in command.” I felt a rejection climb up my throat but I forced it down. I didn't know why I felt any need of rejection but that would be a bold face lie. If I had this title to them, I couldn't fail, and I wasn't entirely sure I wouldn't.

I thanked him and asked if he had gotten in touch with the brothers, being that I’ve had zero time to get in contact and he hadn’t.

As soon as I walked out of the open door office, the angels starting coming one after another on reports and needs for meetings and asking for tasks. I just sent them off to their stations and walked into a room where I knew I would be alone so I could catch my breath. I felt the pressure. One wrong move and I probably would've been dead.

The door opened to the room and my head snapped towards it and composed myself. A shoulder length hair Vanessa Hudgens looking vessel of an angel named Olivia walked in and looked at me curiously. She squinted her eyes and tilted her head a bit, “Is everything alright?” She asked. I didn't know much, well, really a thing about individual angels except for the major ones. I'd seen Olivia a few times around the HQ but we had never had any interactions.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Did you need something?” I asked, clearing my throat from the panic a mere seconds ago. “My vessel is a therapist, I think I can tell when something's off. You don't have to be the person monsters see you as, if enough of us didn't like you, you wouldn't still be here.” She smiled for the most part and I could really feel like she was trying to be nice. I decided to give up the act, at least with her, and make a friend while I'm here I guess.

“Fine. I'm sure you heard Cas- Commander, made me captain.” she smiled again, “Yeah, I advocated. It's the topic of the day. Everyone was going to congratulate you when you walked out but I don't know what happened. Maybe they sensed your discomfort and stood down.” For a second I forgot that they could do that, sense emotions, that is.

I leaned on the table and crossed my arms, Olivia stood in her place. “Your reputation is nothing like what we’ve seen from you in the past. We trust it. We sense you truly care about getting us home.” Reputation? Did every angel keep up with my life? I wasn’t doing anything extraordinary. At least I didn’t think so.

“Clearly. Look, this was a nice chat but like you said, I’ve got a heaven to get you back to.” With that, I walked out and called the people that bombarded me earlier for a meeting. We took an hour plus to discuss found angels, what our next moves are and what we were going to do with what we had. I had no answer for what we were going to do so I left the meeting off with a “We're working on it." remark.

“For now we’re getting as much information as we can so we know exactly what we’re up against. Metatron is strong and jumping in blind will only get people killed. I’ll check with the Commander and have someone send the news when we have something. Dismissed.” The 20+ angels left the room, all but one, Olivia. She stepped towards me with a smile, “As much as you might hate it, you make a pretty good leader.” She followed the last people out the door and I found myself walking to Cas’ office.

The next day, before I could make it to the command center, an arm pulled me to a corner and I was face to face with Hannah. The angel blade Cas’ lent me was firmly pressed against her pale neck. “Who’d you kill to get that?” She snarled. Hannah was an angel that was very much like Cas when he first came to Earth. I didn't know him then but from upstairs at Bobby’s, I’d heard a lot. He was ignorant, to the mission only, casualties without a care. But unlike everyone else, she was one of the very few who thought I shouldn’t be here and vocalized that very openly. Especially with the fact that she has a thing for Cas but he was usually occupied with me.

“Didn’t need to.” She tried to move her neck from the cool silver of the blade but we were in a tight enough space that any movement was pointless. “We took your weapons away for a reason. The Commander won’t be too happy to hear about this.” She tried to be funny as her vessels blue eyes stared into my hazel ones. I leaned in closer, talking into her ear and making her uncomfortable. “Funny. Thing is, your little crush is the one that gave it to me.” I pulled away watching her jaw clench. I was satisfied with my damage and put the blade back in my back pant loop as we put as much distance as we could in the small space.

“What do you want?” I asked, crossing my arms. “For you to leave. Leave heaven to the angels and go back to hunting pathetic monsters. Castiel cannot be persuaded by humanity any longer. It’s corrupted him.” I was going to laugh but then I realized she was serious. Dead serious. “Thanks for the sweet offer but no thanks. “ With that, I walked away and let her stand dumbfounded.

“Captain.” Someone called as I walked into the large room. My head tried to find any eyes looking my direction and when I found them, I walked over to the older man in a grey cardigan seated at a computer. “I’ve got something you might want to see…” He tapped the space bar and a surveillance video from a library popped up. Nothing was happening for a few seconds but then a woman with markings on her chest walked up to a man and yelled something before stabbing herself in the chest and blowing up. The camera cut off after that. I pointed at the screen, “Go back to before the explosion.” I watched it carefully and tried to read her lips.

“W-what did she say?” The man zoomed in and replayed it but the pixels made it hard to decode. I looked at the time stamp and saw it was 10 am this morning. I looked at my watch and saw it was evening time. In this place, time flew by like never before. “Why am I just hearing about this now? We are on a report all activity order.”

He stuttered as he spoke, “W-we just g-got our hands on the file n-now.” I sighed, composing myself. “Okay. Look, find a way to get the audio and let me know when you find it. Find out who she was and if she was one of our own or Metatrons. You are not to speak of this to anyone.” He nodded and got straight to work. I calmly tried to find Cas and tried to get the image out of my head. I had just witnessed an angel suicide bomber.

I walked into Cas’ office, happy to see he was by himself and looking at profiles. I closed his door and he looked up from the photos, standing up in concern. “We’ve got a situation,” I warned and he raised an eyebrow. “What happened?” He asked. “An angel suicide bomber just blew up a library 10 am this morning.”

He looked off to the side, closing his eyes for a moment before turning back to me. “What do we know?” He said ruffly low, even though there was no one around.

“So far? Nothing. I’m gonna head to the police station where the file was taken from and find out as much as I can.” I walked over to the window and pressed the blinds open. I nodded for Cas to look through and I spoke as he did. “You see the nerdy older man in the grey cardigan? Brown whitening hair? Well, his vessel at least?” I waited until I saw him nod. “Bring him in with the video. Maybe you can see something I can’t.” I changed into a suit and left to the police station after that and I was sure Castiel called the man in as soon as I left.

The car ride was slow. I tried calling Dean but got no answer, the same result with Sam. I hoped they were okay and turned on the radio. I sighed at the unsatisfying tunes and turned it off but I couldn’t complain, it wasn’t my car. The police station wasn’t too far from the angel HQ so I was there within an hour or so. I grabbed the fake FBI badge from my inside jacket pocket and got out of the car.

“Agent Bellamy, FBI. Is there anyone I can talk to about the bombing at the library this morning?” The woman at the front desk looked stiffly between the badge and me. “How’d the FBI get someone here that quick?” I cleared my throat and put the badge away in my jacket pocket. “Bombings are a serious matter, I wouldn’t be surprised if they send more agents.” She pointed to a door at the end of the hall. “Sheriff Roscoe was first on the sight. If anyone knows anything, it's him.”

I thanked her and walked to the office at the end of the hallway. I knocked as I entered. “Sheriff Roscoe? Agent Bellamy, FBI” I said as I opened the door fully. Inside, the sheriff was face down on the desk with blood splattered on the walls and pooling around his head, bullet hole visible on the back of his bald head. I quickly walked out and called out for help. Officers rushed to the room and almost as if clockwork, Cas’ caller ID flashed on my phone.

  
“We’ve got something.” Cas started but from the panic in my mind, his words went in through one ear and out the other. “Me too. The person first on the scene is dead in his office with a bullet hole through his head and no one heard anything.” I locked eyes with someone who was posted in front of the door about to leave. The man had a green beanie and normal clothing, a Tom Hardy build and face even, and looked like a regular guy on first glance.

I kept my eyes on the man as I watched him watch me and the chaos around me. “I’m not following.’ Cas said blankly. “The man who was first on the scene was killed and it was posed as a suicide. I think I’m having a stare off with the killer right now.” A sense of urgency raised in my voice as the man walked out and I followed. I shuffled past officers and EMT personnel, eventually losing the man.

“Listen to me. Get out of there, now.” I tried to look for him outside, away from all the commotion, but finally gave up. When I looked around, I realized I was in an empty alley and knew it was too late if he were still here.

I heard Cas’ voice yell over the phone but instead of putting it to my ear, I pulled out my angel blade and readied it. A movement shifted behind me and I turned around to find nothing there. I lifted the phone to my ear and told Cas I would call him back and hung up despite his objections. When I turned around I was met with emptiness once again. I gripped the angel blade tighter and tried to focus on anything in the darkness of the alley, but not even a lamp post gave me access to that vision. A loud noise erupted and echoed through the alley and I turned around quickly, sighing when it was a knocked over trash can.

I heard a compression on the ground and turned around pressing the angel blade to the man’s stomach, not yet piercing through his vessels skin. “Who are you?!” He looked down at his chest and my eyes quickly glanced where his were trained and saw a peak of what seemed to be the marking similar to the bombers’ from this morning.

“Wouldn’t want to start the light show early…” He looked into my eyes and I pulled away reluctantly. “Why are you doing this?” I asked, feeling fearful of the bomb that could detonate at any given moment. I backed up a few steps and felt my back touch a body. I turned around and was met with another man, smaller than the other in terms of muscle and height but ever as intimidating. I looked to my sides and realized I was surrounded by 5 or more angles, strong vessel ones a that.

A sudden darkness surrounded me due to a bag being put over my head and I was trying to fight with blind faith. I kicked and yelled as much as I could and to my luck, nothing came of it. I was carried and thrown into a hard metal surface was handcuffed to the floor. An engine turned on and two doors closed, I assumed it was a van I was in and seconds later we were on the move.

My heart was pounding in my ears and the eerie silence surrounding me made a roller coaster run nonstop in my stomach. I had never been conscious when I was being abducted and I wasn’t entirely sure what to do. There was no way I could pick any lock, especially with the fact that my hands could not detach more than a centimeter off of the floor. When the vehicle came to a forceful stop, the doors were thrown open, hitting the sides of the car/ van with a bang and I was dragged by the legs on the ground and was stood up only to be pushed down onto a chair. The bag was ripped off and I squinted at the newly found light, trying to adjust and see.

Metatron was seated a table across from me, crooked smile and fingers intertwined like an evil mastermind. He was dressed in hobo clothes and the single light bulb hanging above us served as illumination for the entire old abandoned room. “I’ve been waiting to get you alone for a few days now.” He started. I breathed a laughed and watched him. “That’s cute but creepy isn't really my type.” He sat back in his chair and kept his smug smile.

“I guess we would have to consider the perspectives of the situation at hand. See, I’m looking at the golden goose for my operation and you, you see nothing but a pathetic man of a vessel which is true. This guy looks like a 40-year-old animal cruelty advocate.” He looked down at himself and sighed. He leaned onto the table, resting his elbows on it. “But I just wanted my brothers and sisters to suck it up and stop fighting. God wasn’t going to do it. He’s been gone-”

“And you couldn’t call a family meeting and talk it out? You had to let hundreds die from the fall? For a guy who wants his family to work things out, you sure have a funny way of showing it.” I rolled my eyes and scoffed as he sighed. He stood from his chair and rounded the table to stand in front of me and lean his butt on the table. “Being the scribe of God made me have a personal connection with him. When he left, I didn’t know what to do. But now that all the angels in heaven were constantly fighting, I figured, I watched him, I followed, I was sure I could lead them just as he did.”

“Yeah, yeah, playing God.” I sassed. “Au contraire, It’s not so much playing anymore.” He stood in front of me and placed his hands on the temples of my head, flashing mindless images in my brain.


	32. Isolation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Kidnapping, brainwashing, talks of bombings, hellhounds, intro to mental illness  
> Episode: 9x21

My vision was hazy and I tried to shake it but all attempts failed. I felt sick without feeling sick and my head pounded without giving me actual pain. The quicker this was over with, the quicker we would kill Metatron.

Castiel wanted me to recruit more angels from Metatron’s side and a simple enough task couldn’t be passed up. I was sent off with an armed angel and we pulled up to a Metatron HQ location. I gripped my angel blade tightly in my hand and stepped out of the passenger side of the car and escorted the man to the door. Before I knocked, the door opened and I stabbed the angel there, pushing the angel I came with inside. Once we reached their main room I pushed the angel in front of me and hovered the blade over his chest.

“Everybody listen up!” I yelled, seeing shapes of turning bodies. I unzipped the man's jacket and revealed markings that were going to blow this place to bits and everyone in it if he was stabbed with the angel blade. I do this for Castiel. The blade moved back to hovering over the man’s skin and a strain tried to intertwine with my strong toned voice.

“All must pledge their allegiance to Castiel, or die!” the blurry shapes looked around at each other and I felt as if they were testing me. Their silence angered me but one voice spoke up, “We follow what is right, whether it be with Castiel or not!” My head snapped to the woman’s voice but like the others, I only saw a blur of shapes so I just trained my eyes in that area.

I raised an eyebrow, “Fine.” I retracted my hand to spring the blade into the angel's body to detonate the explosion but two arms wrapped around me and pushed the man back. I tried to fight them off but was restricted somehow. Whoever was holding me took me to a room with a chair and table in the middle. They chained me closely to the table and the chair I sat in. Both were drilled into the ground and I tried to loosen the chains up but I grew tired from the fighting and with a snap in the air, all turned to black.

  
**Dean’s POV**  
Sam and I got a call from Cas saying he needed us ASAP and we made it to his, I guess, angel Headquarters as soon as we could. We worked about two cases since we last saw him and with the urgent call, we hoped it was time to get rid of Metatron.

We stood in Cas’ office as he was explaining to us his situation. “We have one an angel that was close to Metatron. We need info, but he won't talk. and you've had success in these situations before. If you don't want to do it, I understand…” He looked pleadingly at us and I felt in addition to his statement. Sam and I exchanged looks then directed ourselves back to Cas. “But?” Sam said.

“...But it would be in your best interest to… something happened and- I think it’d just be best to show you.” Cas lead the way out of his office and into a grey hallway with steel doors on each side. He stopped at a door guarded by two angels. He dismissed them and Sam walked ahead of me into the room. When I was able to see around my brother's tallness, I was horrified at the sight before me. Britt was chained down to her seat and table, looking down at it.

I was making a move towards her and Cas reached an arm out in front of me to stop me from getting close. I backed up slightly and Sam spoke up. “What happened?” As Cas explained to us that she left to a police station for information, and a day later came back to try and bomb the place, I kept my eyes trained on her sweaty brown hair touching the table.

“She thinks we’re all under Metatron's influence and wanted everyone to swear their allegiance to me. She doesn’t even recognize who I am.” My eyebrows drew together in concern and the chains rattled in the distance.

“Some try to hide, some try to cheat…” Britt started mumbling. “What is she doing?” I asked, leaning towards Cas in a hushed tone so she wouldn’t stop talking. “I don’t know, exactly. Other than her fighting everyone and threatening us, this is the first I’ve heard her speak.”

“…but time will show, we always will meet. Try as you might, to guess my name, I promise you'll know when you I do claim.” Her voice was low but in the small room, it was hard not to hear it. She looked up from the table and her black eyeliner was smudged to her under eyes. Her hazel ones were clouded and unrecognizable. She looked at the three of us like she wanted to rip our throats out. “W-What does that mean?” I asked. She continued to shift her gaze like she couldn’t tell which of us the question came from.

I walked closer to try and see if anything was off other than her words and mannerisms. She spoke in a dark tone as I came closer, zoning into my face. “I am always around but never seen. I am often avoided, but you can't outrun me. for I will come when your old and grey, or maybe even the very next day. I will come with cold embrace, and give you rest with a chilled kiss on your face. I come in many forms of emotional state, weather it's irony, love, laughter, or hate. I am everyone's finale fate.” Everything was fine physically but I felt saddened and angered by her evil state.

I walked back towards Sam and Cas, pointing back to Britt. “Okay, so Nygma here is hexed? Or someone got into her head?” Cas shook his head. “She’s clear from any spells and I swore to never look into a humans head without their permission. It’s too dangerous unwillingly and I don’t trust any angel around her so we don’t know-” Sam held his hand out, telling Cas to stop talking.

“Wait, Britt, can you repeat yourself?” She looked in our direction with hooded eyes. “Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will show, we always will meet. Try as you might, to guess my name, I promise you'll know when you I do claim.” I looked between Sam and Britt and crossed my arms. Sam looked at the floor in thought, his eyes finally knitting together. He huffed out a quick breath and looked up quickly.

“Death. I am Death.” We all looked at Britt to see if there was any reaction and there was none.

All of a sudden she started coughing like she couldn’t catch her breath. We rushed over to her and I held her head in my hands, yelling her name and brushing her hair out of her face. Her eyes were wide and I didn't know what to do. When her last breath was made she leaned limply in my hands and my heart palpitated. Not now. Not after everything. Not another stupid mind game was gonna take her out.

I looked back at Cas telling him to do something and before he walked over she inhaled deeply, making me look back at her. A cloudy glaze over her eyes faded and they returned to their normal vibrant hazel color. She looked at me alarmingly, moving to reach for me but looking down in confusion at the chains. She looked up at me and her eyes shifted to the other two in the room.

“What did I do…?”

 

+++

We unchained her and told her what she had done but to our luck, the last thing she remembered was getting into a van unwillingly. Cas, Sam, and I walked outside the room to talk in private.

“So now what?” I huffed. “Now you two talk to our prisoner while I work with Britt. She wanted to help out more than anything to find Metatron. I’m sure she won’t say no to the scanning.” Cas pushed and I held up a finger. “So we’re supposed to just let you go through her head? I don’t think so. Solving that riddle was too easy, maybe whoever did this put something in her head so it could be passed on to you.”

Cas huffed a sigh, “Then you two will be around to help out. But we need answers, Dean. I’ll set up a passcode with the guards to let me out when everything is okay but until then, just deal with the other guy.” Before I could comment any further, Cas walked into the room and closed the door in our faces.

 

 **Britt’s POV**  
“So what happened to the angel bomb I brought in?” I rubbed my wrist, still feeling the chains and hissed when I felt some exposed skin. Cas heard the cry of pain after he closed the door and asked for my hand which I handed to him. “We disrupted the carving in his chest so he wouldn't be a threat but he just killed himself in his containment room.” A burning second of a touch and the skin healed. He fell limp for a second.

“Cas, are you okay?” He zoned back in and shook his head. “I’m fine, I’m okay.”

He walked off and took off his trench coat, rolling up his suit and undershirt sleeves. “Britt, would you be okay if I try to scan your memory to see who did this to you?” I was hesitant at first. What would he find on the way to that? I didn’t want him seeing certain things. Maybe there was still some stuff that I didn’t even know about… “Sure, Cas. Okay.” He walked around me to face me and hovered his hands over the temples of my head.

“Now I only have so much time so I need you to think about what you last remember.” I nodded and he placed his fingers on my skin. I felt a burning sensation and saw darkness and then a distorted voice was heard. “Oh hello, Castiel. I was hoping you would find a way to crack the code. I know you don’t have much time with that stolen grace of yours but I‘ll make this quick. Stand down. Angels are dying and you can stop that by handing yours over. And if you don’t comply, I’ll give them a reason to leave…” the voice grew evil in his last words and I felt Cas and myself rip ourselves from the blackened scene.

Both Cas and I were breathing heavily and Cas sat down on the chair, looking weak. “Where is your grace, Cas?” I asked. He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Metatron stole it from me to use some of it for the spell to lock angels out of heaven.” My first thought was the Bruno Mars song but when I had to take into consideration the seriousness of the situation, my focus shifted. I crossed my arms, “What happens when this grace runs out?”

“It’s not something I’d really like to picture.” He looked off at the wall in thought. I was concerned, fearful for my friend. His weakened state made me think so sadly and I couldn’t help but ask on. I walked to the area where Cas’ eyes were trained and felt a false sense of security in my voice.

“You’re dying, aren’t you?” He looked into my eyes briefly and nodded slowly. I felt tears well up but none that were strong enough to fall. Pushing the topic further would’ve upset us both so I just cleared my throat and reverted back to the task. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the voice was Metatron’s.” Cas nodded, closing his eyes for a moment and slowed his breathing to a calming state.

He stood up from the chair and leaned on the table. “Me neither. There was another bombing while you were gone. Oren did the act.” The sound of a voice on the other side of the door cut him off. “In order to pass, we must know if the Commander’s okay.” Cas and I looked towards the door and he yelled, “regnavit coelum.” With that, the door opened and Olivia walked in.

“Ezra is dead, Commander.” I looked at Cas to see if that meant anything significant and his expression tightened. “Find Sam and Dean and send them to my office.” She nodded and walked out without as much as a breath in my direction.

In his office, the brothers sat like children getting ready to see the principal. “What did you do?” I asked the both of them but directing it more to Dean. “What do you mean?” Sam asked. “Ezra was found dead in his chair,” Cas told them and their eyebrows raised to the ceiling.

“I barely touched the guy,” Dean claimed. I sighed and crossed my arms, poking at the corners of my eyes. Sam butt in, “Still shackled, no weapon. It wasn't suicide. I swear we didn’t do it.” I walked away and leaned on Cas’ desk, letting him take over. “No. He’s right. This was an angel kill.” I stood up straight, rejoining the conversation.

“Okay. Well, I'm gonna say it. Maybe your operation's been hacked. You know, Metatron's got somebody on the inside.” Dean pointed out. Cas shook his head, “I was sure everyone here was loyal. Finally united by a common cause.”

Dean gestured forward, “Well, that's the problem. See, you don't think anybody's lying. I think everybody's lying. It's a gift.” He then turned to Sam, leading them to investigate on their own. Cas called Sam back before we were able to leave and while he was with Sam, I decided to talk to Dean.

“Hey,” I said, trying to catch up with him. When I finally got around to him I hadn’t realized how tired he looked. “No sleep?”

“Not until Abaddon is dead.” He refused to look at me and I raised my hand to his cheek, feeling the spiky stubble. “Hey,” he fought with himself and lost as he turned his attention to me. “Talk to me.” He held my gaze and then I felt the eyes of every angel in the room on us, on me. I bit down on my tongue harshly and felt my eyes leave his slowly.

I walked away from Dean and into the no longer guarded cell of a room, I’d been in for days. I didn’t get a clear look at his reaction to me just walking away and I wasn’t entirely sure how to explain things to him.

I tried to kill them. I took their very trust into my hands and set it on fire like a maniac. Hannah was probably getting her fair share of laughs and I thought it’d just be best that I don’t get that look of disappointment and nonetheless, fear. This is what it was like the night my dad died. I went off, alone, trying to prove myself, got taken, was tortured (in this case manipulated) and the trust I put into my dad was gone after finding out he was possessed. Well, it wasn’t exactly parallel but the similarities were very much there. The angels trusted me. They wouldn’t care that I was under another control. They would say I was tainted because of it.

Through the long hours, I evaluated my life and the things I had gone through. The good, the bad, and the complete hell. I worked out, punched the wall carelessly throughout my evaluation.

 **Good** : Had a real father figure (Bobby), meeting Sam and Dean, healthy grieving  
**Bad:** The feeling I got when Bobby died, Sam and Dean will always have enemies (but who doesn’t in this life?), and the fact that grieving is grieving  
**Complete Hell:** (Near) Death experiences for all of us, the death of Dad, Bobby, Kevin, Sam (almost), Dean (almost)

I felt like a shell. I was used to a sick purpose and I was to suffer the consequences. I faced the wall in blank thought and focused on my breaths. I closed my eyes briefly and got a flicker of an image of myself detonating the angel bomb and hearing an overlapping whisper, I do this for Castiel.

I inhaled a sharp breath and backed away from the wall only to feel my back touch the opposing wall. I didn’t even hear the door open when it did or pay much attention to my name as it was called. My head snapped in the direction of the voices when it called me again and I instantly stood up, fixing my appearance as Dean stepped further into the room. “We’ve got a lead on Abbadon, Britt. Are you gonna be okay?”

I cleared my throat to choke down the childlike voice that was going to come out. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Let’s go.” I walked past him and almost made it out of the door when he reached for my wrist, making me turn around and face him. “Talk.”

“Later, I really need to occupy myself.” He looked at me knowingly. “Please?” I asked, trying to inch towards the door. He didn’t comment on anything further than that and we and Sam were on our way to a cemetery to dig up the Blade that Crowley supposedly stashed in a coffin.

After I helped dig the coffin up, Sam and Dean jumped down to open it with me. The smell of death and rotten meat was overwhelming and the amount of disgust could make a grown man squeem, as it did. “Oh! Come on, Crowley! You really have to hide the Blade in a corpse? Not- not with a corpse but in a corpse?” Sam stated disgustedly. The First Blade was inside of the corpse’ chest and I felt my eyes water from the strong smell and even covering my nose with my sleeve didn’t help.

“I got to say, it's not the first place I'd look. All right, here we go.” Dean said as he reached down to the corpse’ chest but growling in the distance stopped his movements. Not again, I mentally cried. “Guys…” I said in alarm.

“I'm guessing Hellhound.” Dean looked up between Sam and me. Another growl was heard and the three of us rushed out of the 6-foot deep grave, leaving the Blade and ran as fast as possible. “Go. Go!” We ran through the clearings and locked ourselves behind a gate and tried to hold it shut, the hellhound, barking and pushing against it.

Despite the running we all just endured, I was finding it hard to breathe on a different level. A zoo was raging in my chest, rock drums were banging in my ears, a numbness in my legs tried to make me fail but over all that, the barking was all that was in my head. Looking back towards the hellhound as we ran flashed memories of the night that haunted me for a long time and to say I was over it was a bold-faced lie.

The hellhound was barking and shoving itself against the gate and I closed my eyes in remembrance. All that was heard was the barking and growling until Dean’s voice was yelling through it. “Damn it, Crowley, the grave is guarded!” He yelled. I opened my eyes and saw him yelling into the phone. “A Hellhound!” He continued.

“The hell she was!” Dean was listening to the phone and I turned around to try and keep the gate closed, as did Sam. “I'm gonna put you on speaker!” Dean yelled and took the phone away from his ear, facing it towards the invisible dog and Crowley’s voice rang through it.

“Juliet? It's papa. Stand down.” The gate instantly stopped moving and I sighed in relief, starting to get regularity in my breathing. “You're welcome.” Crowley’s voice rasped. Dean hung up and we walked back to the grave. “You alright?” Sam asked me. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“All right. Goin' in.” Dean said as the two were standing in the grave and I was seated on the ground above. Sam stopped him before he could reach into the corpse's chest. “Hey, you know what? Maybe, uh... Maybe I should do this.”.

Dean looked at his brother with slight confusion and minor hysteria in his voice. “Sam, it's fine. I- I-I can safely grab it without… you know…” He meant lashing out and his brother just reached into the corpse, grabbing the First Blade. I smiled, “Well, let's go kill a knight of hell, huh?”


	33. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: panic attack, demons, blood, gore, minor language, lying, mental illness.  
> Episode: 9x21

Dean was on the phone talking to Crowley to tell him that we got the Blade and I felt myself clamping my head as memories of the night my dad died, the Obake, my brainwashed almost bombing act and the words of Gadreel rang through my head. Sam looked back at me nonchalantly but his eyebrows instantly pulled together as he did a double take. “Britt?”

Dean looked back for a second and watched me through the rearview mirror. A massive headache washed over me and I bent over with a groan. “Dean pull over!” I didn't know who said it, whether it was Sam’s plea or my own but once the car pulled to a stop I reached for the door handle and slipped out of the car and onto the dirt. I brought my knees to my chest as I sat in front of the rear wheel. I tried to pull myself out of it and catch my breath.

“Talk to us! What’s happening?!” I groaned as I held my head and tried to speak through the pain. “I-I I just need a second.” I cried in pain and didn’t dare to look up at them as they crouched in front of me. I felt arms wrap around me and I cried harder. Screams became overwhelming and flashes of pooled red scared me. I didn't know how long I was freaking out but the voices simmered and I softly pulled away from the embrace and forced the tears off my face.

Dean looked at me worriedly as I pulled away from him and the brothers briefly looked at each other. “I’m sorry, I just- the hellhound, the graveyard, it brought back vivid memories of that night and then everything else piled on top of it.” Dean wiped a stray tear from my cheek and both looked at me sadly.

“Everything else like what, Britt? You just spazzed out.” Sam asked. I closed my eyes for a moment and when a flash of the graveyard came to view, I opened them instantly. “It was loud and vivid. I was hearing the screams of everyone I couldn’t save, mixed with Gadreels and the Obakes insults, not to mention the fact that I almost killed a mass amount of angels, including Cas. It was like I couldn’t pull myself out of it…” I looked between the two.

Dean started to take out his phone, most likely to call Cas to see if he could babysit me and I rushed forward to stop him. “No, no, no. Dean, I’ll be fine. Killing Abaddon is what matters.” I leaned my head back to touch the car and took a breath before standing up and dusting off the dirt on my pants. “Britt, you need to rest-”

“We can talk about my well-being later, after Abaddon’s dead.” I opened the car door and sat inside, and after a few seconds the front doors opened on each side and the two fell in their seats and we were on our way. The Impala came to a stop in front of a hotel and we got out of the car.

“All right. Let's do this.” Sam said holding the Blade. Before we walked any further, Dean stopped us. “Wait, wait, wait. Hold on a sec. We should give this place a once-over before we go up there. Crowley said he thought he saw some demons headed down to the basement. He'd have checked it out himself, but if word got back to Abaddon that he'd been seen…” Sam and I looked confusingly at him, “When did he say all this?” Sam asked.

“On the phone. Look, it might mean that she knows that he's here, okay? So why don't you check out the basement. I'll, uh, take a look on the main floor. Britt, just- be careful, okay?” He kissed my forehead and took the First Blade from Sam and we separated.

As far away from the conversation just waiting to happen as I wanted to be, I should’ve known separating might have not been the best idea. As soon as we were out of civilian range, Sam started to ask questions I wasn’t sure how to answer. Not because I didn’t want to but because I didn’t know the answers myself. I held the flashlight tightly, not yet using it since we weren’t in the dark yet. “Dean and me, we care. You’re our family and we just want to help.”

He opened the door to the basement and we clicked our flashlights on before walking through it. “I know, Sam. I just- the hellhound in the graveyard kind of snapped a memory back in my head, the one I had the nightmares about.” The basement was dark and filled with boxes on shelves. The hall became more narrow and at the end was a wire fence gate that was open. I walked in and sighed at the emptiness.

“The night your dad died? I thought that was all said and done? Yenno, after the pheonix you went through like a guilt cleanse or whatever.” I laughed a little at Sam’s statement. “I did. I was good. Really, I was, but I don't know. After I almost blew the angels up, I felt like I let them down. I know we weren’t very buddy-buddy with them but they just wanted to get home and I felt responsible to make sure that happened… Yenno what? I’m starting to think there are no demons down here.” I said turning towards Sam. He looked around wearily and let out a quick breath.

“I don't think there are any either.” My head tilted at the recognizable thought and I looked at Sam who was thinking the same thing. We rushed out of the basement and upstairs to get to where Dean was supposed to be and the door to it was hard to open. I tried again and when it did, massive gusts of wind were swarming the room as I entered. With my hair flying into my eyes I tried to shield it so I could see and I should’ve let it block my vision. Dean stalked towards the Abaddon as she tried to push him back with her powers but it was as if he was immune to it.

Once he got to her, he stabbed her in the stomach with the First Blade, lifting her off of the ground. Abaddon screamed as a blinding, burning white light of energy burst through her body, killing her. Her body dropped to the floor when Dean pulled out the Blade and the strong winds stopped. For a moment, I was relieved, but Dean didn’t stop there. As she laid dead on the floor, he dropped onto his knees over her body and continued to stab her over and over. I grew horrified of what I was witnessing. The blood splattered across his body and face as he continued his rage, growing more angry by the hit and Sam was repeatedly calling him to stop.

I was never scared of Dean, it was the Mark I fed fear to. Unfortunately, that Mark very much influenced the one I loved to do the unimaginable. After Sam was calling his name desperately, he finally looked up looked unrecognizably at us and then dropped the bloody Blade. He stared at his hands in shock and as did Sam and me. Sam rushed over to Dean, and gripped his hand and bringing him up to stand. I walked over to Crowley who was sitting in the chair with the back to Dean.

Crowley groaned and held his shoulder. “I’ve got a bullet in my shoulder, could you help out a little?” I looked around and found nothing so I gave him my knife from my back pant loop. “Here.” I walked away and stood with Sam and Dean, not wanting to deal with the whiney demon.

“You could at least-” Crowley groaned in pain, as he tried to remove the bullet with the knife, “-help me with this.” The three of us looked at him with amusement. “We didn't kill you, Crowley, even though it would've been very easy. Isn't that enough?” Sam sassed.

“You owe me. Do I get no credit for warning you this was a trap?” I raised an eyebrow at Sam and Dean, Sam looking surprised as well. “"Poughkeepsie" ring a bell?” Both Sam and me clenched our jaws and looked at Dean who seem unphased. “I sense dramaaa.” Crowley said, eyebrows to the roof.

I crossed my arms looking at Dean expectantly and he paid no mind to it and switched up the topic. “I just still can't get over the fact that Crowley has a son.” I uncrossed my arms and pointed my index fingers together trying to recap the revelation. “Wait, what? You have a kid?!” I asked the still struggling with the bullet in his shoulder. He groaned, “Pre-demon me, yes, Snake.”

“How's he doing, by the way?” Dean asked as he turned to him. I was tired of hearing Crowley’s groaning to I grabbed the knife out his hand and dug my hand into the wound, he started to yell and I told him to quit being a baby as I pulled the bullet out and looked at it before tossing it.

“Ow!” He emphasized at me and stood up. He stepped towards Sam and Dean and I followed. “How do you think?” He sassed. “You get that he's got to go back, right? To his own time?” Dean said nodding at the demon. Crowley sighed, “If the lad goes back, his destiny is to board a ship bound for America. That ship went down in a storm. All hands were lost. He had one chance in this world to change his life. You want that to all end in tragedy?”

I spoke softly, trying to get the demon to understand. “Crowley, he can’t stay.”

“Yeah, I don't know what to tell you. Them's the rules. He goes back.” Dean added. “The lore all says the same thing- you change any one thing in the past, the ripple effect impacts everything that follows.” Sam said sympathetically. Crowley looked like he was getting desperate and I started to wonder if he was still shooting himself up with human blood.

He started to plead. “Please. No one bends the rules like you three bend the rules. He's one misfit kid. He impacts no one.” I started to feel bad even though I hated Crowley as a whole. I didn’t know if it was the care he had for his kid but I almost slipped up and told him his son could stay.

“You don't bend that rule, okay? You don't. We'll take him back to the bunker, figure out the spell. That's the way it's got to be.” Sam said as he crossed his arms. I looked over to Dean and if I hadn’t seen him kill Abaddon, he would’ve looked like his normal self after hunts and it scared me. We- he, just took down the greatest threat to the world from the Hell side of it and all of a sudden we were convincing the King of Hell to put his kid back in his own time. It was amazing to me that everything happened one right after the other. There were no breaks from anything.

“Can I at least say goodbye? I'll cheer the day when the last trace of humanity leaves me. Feelings.” I chuckled at his squint and scrunch of his nose at the word “feelings”. He walked into the room where a young 20 something year old with brown ear length hair and dressed in a dirty, used-to-be-white, puffy pirate shirt with a black vest and black pants with knee-high boots. His face was nothing like Crowley’s but then again, we had never seen Crowley’s real face other than his vessels.

After a moment of being in the room, Crowley magically shut the door and we all rushed to it, opening it freely with no one inside. “Damn it, Crowley!” Dean yelled.

 

+++

It was night time as we rode the empty highway to get home to the bunker. I laid in the backseat of the Impala with the green blanket draped over me. I faced the black leather booth in thought of the day and all was quiet. Not even the soft music of Dean’s cassette tapes gave us the luxury of a distraction to the harsh tension.

Dean’s voice ultimately broke through the thick air. “I didn't tell you about the warning because I knew exactly what you would do. You would make sure that you were right alongside me going in that room.” I stayed in my place and hoped he thought I was sleeping. “You mean like we always do? Because we're actually partners in this and we watch each other's backs?” Sam replied angrily but not raising his voice and I was satisfied they thought I was asleep.

“I don't expect you to understand.” Dean tried to push it away. “Try me,” Sam said.

“First time I touched that Blade… I knew. I knew that I wouldn't be stopped. I knew I would take down Abaddon and anything else if I had to. And it wasn't a hero thing. You know, it wasn't… It was just calm. I knew. And I had to go it alone, Sammy.” I gripped the blanket and held it closer to my body. “Oh. Of course. So it was just another time where you had to protect me.” Sam said sarcastically angry at his brother.

“You or Britt could've gotten nabbed by Abaddon, and she could've bargained her way out. We couldn't afford to screw this up.” Screw this up? I clenched my jaw and felt a tingling sensation behind my nose.

Sam continued to argue with his brother. “Look… I'm glad it worked out, okay? I am. And I'm glad the Blade gives you strength or calm or whatever, but, Dean, I got to say… I'm starting to think the Blade is doing something else, too.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Dean challenged, evidently aware of what it was doing. “I don't know. Like, something to you. Look... I'm thinking until we know for sure that we're gonna kill off Crowley, why don't we store the Blade somewhere distant? Lock it up somewhere safe? Okay?” I held my breath and hoped Dean was going to give it up but we saw it. We all did. We saw the change with the Mark alone but now that it was partnered with it’s evil buddy, blood and carnage would be all that was left on the path we walked.

“No,” Dean said harshly and I felt water drip in my ear. I was crying, quietly and a lot. I didn’t hear anything come out of Sams mouth again for the remainder of the drive. 


	34. Broken Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Headache, arguments, mentions of mental health, fluff, suicide, bombs, death, anger, the bringing back of a disgraced person, Angry!Dean  
> Episode: 9x22  
> (Should I start adding the last paragraph of the last chapter as a refresher?)

When I woke up the next day, I was in my bed in the Bunker with sweats and a band tee on, no doubt put on with Dean’s assistance. I felt the remanence of a headache and groaned from the feeling. I lazily rolled out of bed and brushed my teeth at the sink right of the door. I would never forget the look I gave it when we first moved in. A sink IN our rooms was weird. I walked out of the room after I washed my face and made my way towards the kitchen only to be met with an awaiting Dean sitting at the table. I stopped at the doorframe and looked wearily at him and his body language. His hands were folded around a coffee mug and his face was molded with sleep that he hadn’t been getting for weeks on end.

I advanced to the coffee maker and poured myself a cup, sitting in the seat in front of him once I finished. I waited for someone to say something but we just sat and watched each other watch each other. He’d been restless with the hunt for Abaddon but really it was solely the Mark to blame. After moments of silence, I sighed and removed my now cooling hands from the mug resting in front of me.

“Ask away I guess…” Sam already had his questions answered and considering last night’s argument between the two, I was sure he didn't pass on the information. “What happened?” He asked.

“I already told you.”

“Yeah, when you were fresh out of a panic attack.”

I sighed, prepping myself to talk about it again. “You know how upset I got after we couldn’t save someone?” He stayed quiet and watched me. “Well, it was like every single person was screaming at me, asking why I didn’t help, why-why I couldn’t save them…” I closed my eyes, remembering and thinking out loud.

“I thought-” I cut him off, knowing we were both wrong.

“Me too. But that wasn’t it… Gadreel brought up what happened when you and Cas were in Purgatory and that just piled onto it. It was loud and I- I was scared, Dean. I’m scared.” I didn’t dare to look up at him as the fear I never vocalized, spilled out like nothing.

I had sworn I was better. No guilt, no nightmares, nothing. Things were smooth sailing and then someone decided to tie an anchor to my ankle and throw it in the deepest ocean, again. I hated what happened in the car and the fear of a more serious diagnosis played in my mind.

“Hey,” Dean cooed, making me finally look at him. “We’re gonna figure this out and you’re gonna be okay. Okay?” I looked at his marked forearm as his hand was outstretched for mine to take but I kept to myself. “Will I…? Will you?” He retracted his hand and he kept his face straight. “This isn’t about me.”

“Seriously? You’re gonna pull that now of all times?" I almost laughed in hysteria. "Dean I'm seriously getting the feeling I'm more messed up than I think, like PTSD messed up, and you can’t even be straight with me about going overboard with Abaddon.” I stood up, feeling the need for air in the tight room and stormed out.

On the way to the roof, I bumped into Sam and forced the random tears that had fallen, off my face and tried to walk around him. Gladly, he got the idea and stepped aside as I continued my route. The sky was bright and too happy for my liking. The crisp summer air was hot and sticky, almost as suffocating as the inside but somehow it was what I needed to calm down. I sat with my knees to my chest and back on the wall connected to the ledge.

We all saw what the Mark was doing to Dean whether he liked it or not. Lying to us, saying he’s “fine” wasn’t an option he had the luxury of choosing for us to go along with anymore. I remembered what I thought about before I stormed off and I held myself closer. Could I  have Post Traumatic Stress? After so long of just being used to everything that has happened and what went on around me, I would’ve never thought I would develop such anxiety. I didn't want to do any research because the internet would suggest I was dying and I didn't need that stupidity.

I wanted to take back what I said. I didn’t consider how Dean felt about the Mark and about what happened and didn't give him the chance to realize that I saw through his B.S. and correct himself as he usually did. The Mark was changing him for the worst and I wasn’t sure of what any of us could do about it. He brushed us off and instead of drilling, I just left him there.

I stood up from my place on the cement and looked at the town down the hill and sighed before I opened the latch and going back inside to look for Dean.

In his room, he was packing his bag and I rounded the bed to stand across from him. “What- where are you going? If this is about what I said, I didn’t-”

“Sweetheart it’s not about that. Cas called about another angel bombing at some ice cream shop. Me and Sam are gonna head over to check it out.” He grabbed an angel blade from his nightstand and tossed it in the bag before he zipped it shut. “And I assume I’m not going…?” I asked knowingly. He rounded the bed and stood in front of me, looking down at me with softer eyes than earlier.

“If you were sure about your messed upness, the angel bombing case might not be the best thing to go along with right now. Not until we can shake the attacks off.” He put his palm under my ear and caressed my cheek with his thumb. I apologized.

“For what? You were right. I should’ve known not to shut you out like that. I’ll talk about it when I know what to say, okay?” I nodded and he softly placed his lips on my forehead and then to my lips. We kissed longer than expected as if it were to distract ourselves from reality and I was lost in the feeling of him in this state, normal.

He broke the kiss and grabbed his bag, holding his hand out for me to take. We walked to the war room hand in hand where Sam was in his FBI suit similar to Deans and slung his backpack on. I hugged Sam and he quietly asked if I was okay and I told him I’d tell him about it later. I didn't walk them to their car that time and I just sat in silence for what felt like hours.

  
**Dean’s POV**  
“So you two are good now?” Sam asked out of the blue on the way to meet Cas at the bombsight. I briefly looked over at him only to see amusement on his face and turned my attention back to the road.

“What are you? A couples therapist? We’re fine.” I heard the bullshit in my voice and I was sure he did too. I sighed and gripped the wheel, knowing he wouldn’t stop until he got a real answer, so I gave it to him.

“I asked her about her panic attack.”

“And?” He said expectantly. “And when it came to my turn to talk to her, I just couldn’t do it. Then she called me out on it and stormed off.” I clenched my jaw at the memory and looked for a reaction from Sam. He just sighed and ran a hand through his stupidly silky hair.

“I’m worried about her, Dean. About both of you.” I looked over at him. “We’re not breaking up anytime soon, Sam. You’re being dramatic.” I looked back at the road trying to focus on that instead of what Sam was really talking about. Britt’s possible PTSD confession scared the living crap out of me and I didn't know if she told Sam about it or not. “You know what I mean,” he said, looking at me dumbly from the corner of my eye.

I sighed, “And you think I’m not. I would do anything to get rid of her stupid anxiety crap.” He tuned in his seat. “Anxiety?” I glanced at him before continuing. “She might have PTSD, Sam,” I said gripping the wheel tighter than ever. “I know… I’d been thinking about it and was hoping I was wrong but I’m not so sure anymore…”

Neither of us brought up Britt again during the car ride and I was glad. To see her hurting was horrible on its own but something internally damaging was even worse. How do you help something like that?

After we met Cas at the Colonel Scoops where yet another angel bomber exploded, we changed and drove to Cas’ HQ. A female looking version of Cas smiled as he entered and stood up, “Commander.” She smiled.

“Oh, it's just creepy,” I muttered referring to the name the angels had for him. Especially the light it brought to their mood. “Sam, Dean, this is Hannah.” She put on a fake smiled for us, “The Winchesters- I've heard so much about you.” I mirrored her smile but mine was more genuine from my comment, “What can I say? Cas is a fan.”

Others looked at us and most continued their work. Hannah stayed by our side and continued to talk to Cas. “Sir, this morning, Josiah wasn't at roll call.” Sam and I looked at each other. “Uh, roll call? You hold, uh, roll call?” I almost laughed but because of the “respectable environment” I kept it to myself.

Cas averted eye contact but kept his attention on us. “They like to hear me say their names.” I smirked, “I know a couple of women like that.” Sam looked at me dumbly and I quickly straightened my face. “No one's seen Josiah since Ezra was murdered. We think that-”

“You think Josiah's the killer, that he is the mole?” Sam finished for her. She shrugged, “Well, who else? We searched the grounds, but he's vanished.” I looked around and for a second I thought I saw Vanessa Hudgens and when I did a double take, she held my gaze and slowly turned away. I zoned back into the conversation and countered Hannah’s claim.

“Not without wings. He's an angel, but he's still got to travel like he's a human, which means walk, drive- means he's gonna leave a trail.” Sam sat down at a computer and began to hack databases. “All right. What was his vessel's name?” Cas rounded Sam’s chair. “Sean Flynn from Omaha.”

After a few seconds, Sam turned the computer. “This the guy?” He asked. Cas nodded, “Yeah, that's him.” Sam tracked him to Colorado and a redshirt angel came up to us. “Commander. I have something. This phone's memory chip has a video time-stamped just before the explosion.” The video played showing footage from inside Colonel Scoops and a guy walked in. “And now the moment you've all been waiting for.” A lady turned and the child across from her yelled out no. The man ripped open his coat to reveals a sigil carved into his chest. He rammed an angel blade through his heart as he yelled: “I do this for Castiel!” The whole shop exploded and the video went dead.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, looking at Cas. “I don't know. I didn't- I would never ask an angel to sacrifice himself to kill innocents. I'm gonna be sick.” Sam looked at Cas intently and looked him in the eye. “Cas, why would an angel blow up a Colonel Scoop's in your name?”

Hannah stepped in, “That's not what he was doing. Roll it back. There.” She pointed to the girl in the booth, the one that yelled out no. “That was an angel- Esther. She's one of Metatron's.” My eyebrows knitted together. “So, this was some kind of hit? Like Britt. She thought everyone here was under Metatron’s control.” Sam questioned.

“I don't know.” Cas sighed firmly. I grew angry, “Stop saying you don't know.” If this was his doing he should man up about it and tell us. He turned to me sharply, “You can't think I would allow something like this.”

“Cas, I know you try to be a good guy, okay? I do. You try. But what you got here, this is a a freakin' cult.” He said my name as to say stop but he knew I was right. “And the last time you had this kind of juice, you did kill humans and angels, and you did nothing but lie to me and Sam about it the whole damn time!” I was beyond angry and we took the conversation to Cas’ office after we were “drawing attention.”

Sam closed the door behind us. “Will you stow the baggage, Dean. Look, we've got a case. Let's work it. Cas, did you know the angel in that video?” I sighed and crossed my arms. “Yes. His name was Oren. He was a new recruit. He worked in community outreach.” Cas said.

I shrugged, “And what does that mean?”

“Some of my troops are stationed at a local hospital. They help where they can. Minor miracles- it's nothing that would attention.” Cas continued, “The Enochian runes that were carved in his chest were meant to focus energy. When he stabbed himself, it unleashed all that power. Britt was human so she needed an angel to have that kind of energy to focus to take this whole place down.”

“But she wasn’t hailing Castiel,” I said. He looked at me and tilted his head as if saying, “actually, yeah.” “What do we do now?” He asked instead of officially answering my question. “Well, you don't do jack. Me and Sam will head to the hospital, see if we can find somebody who knew this… walking nuke.” Cas held out a hand, “Hold on. These are my people. I can help.”

“Well, that's sort of the problem. I mean, the Manson girls aren't gonna give us a straight answer with Charlie in the room, so just hang back.” He looked at me questioningly. “So, I should just sit here?” I nodded, “Pretty much.”

“No. If you don't want my help, then I will follow Josiah's trail to Colorado. I have to do something, Dean.” I sighed and looked between Sam and Cas, thinking about it. “All right, fine. But Sam's coming with you.” Sam instantly questioned it. “What?”

Cas grew angry, “Because you don't trust me?” I corrected him before walking out, “To help.”

  
**Britt’s POV**  
I did the weird nuclear woman thing and cleaned because I might as well have nothing else to do. Sam’s room was fairly easy, just needed dusting and Deans room was the same, nothing out of place, nothing new, all in one piece and clean. I was moving to walk out when something on his desk caught my eye.

A picture of the three of us sitting on the hood of the Impala laughing at something random I was sure. Sam was to the left of his brother and I was on Dean’s right. I flipped to the back of the photo to see if something was written on the back. “Summer of 2011” was written in chicken scratch that I could point out in a heartbeat. Bobby must have taken the picture when I first met the brothers and it somehow found its way to Dean.

I smiled at the photo and put it back in its spot. That was the week after Sam got his soul back and all of us couldn’t be happier. I smiled at the remembrance of that summer (the good parts at least).

I walked back to my room and felt the throbbing of a headache come on and I sat on my bed. My hands massaged my temples and I reached for my phone to call Dean. On the second ring, I hung up and tossed the phone to the side. My head was pounding even more and I closed my eyes to try and not feel the pain that seemed to grow stronger every second.

I washed my face at the sink and sighed. I lifted my head to look in the mirror and take in my appearance. Instead of my reflection, I saw my friends and family covered in blood, in a pile, dead. I stared at the sight and tried to blink it away but when it wasn’t leaving, I grew frustrated and threw my fist in the empty space, crack of the mirror echoing through the halls.

As if I had no control, I got dressed and got into my car. On pulling up to the building, I didn't think about what would happen if I just waltzed in but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I couldn’t sit on the sidelines and let what I saw happen.

The one who opened the door tried to put up a fight but I held my hands up in surrender before he could throw a punch. “I’m not going to fight back. Just let me in.” He looked at me for a moment as if he were scanning me and after moments of standing in the heat of the day, he stood aside. I nodded at him and walked in. The place seemed foreign despite having been there numerous times and every angel's head turned as I made my way through the command center.

Hannah, Olivia, and another angel walked up to me as if they were going to escort me out and as if reflex, I held my head high as Hannah confronted me. “You have no place here.” She said, crossing her arms. “No matter what I tell you, you will have your own opinion. I’m not here for my title, I just need to talk to Castiel.” I needed him. He could fix me. He had to.

Hannah was about to protest but she zoned out for a moment. “Something’s wrong.” She and the others ran towards the hallway where I was held just days ago and I followed as they burst into a room.

Shoving through people who didn't want to move was hard, but when I made it through, I saw Dean with a bloody First Blade and limp body on the floor. His high from the Mark died and I wasn’t sure he even noticed my presence. Seconds later men flooded into the room and tried to grab Dean. Dean threw a punch to one of the angels and I wasn’t able to see the rest because I was carried away by a few angels and handcuffed to a chair in one of the twinning rooms of the one I was held in before. Duct Tape over my lips made me angry and I just sat with anger building up.

I heard doors slamming and angels running by and wanted to see what was going on. If they hated me because I almost killed them, imagine their hatred towards Dean for ACTUALLY killing one of them. Or at least I thought it was one of them.

Hours later, after hearing nonstop commotion, my door was thrown open and I was ripped from my restraints and dragged to the Command center where everyone was crowded and as the angels holding me broke through them, I was met with a now distraught looking Sam, Dean, and Castiel in the middle where all eyes were on them.

Hannah was talking when I came in and was pointing at Dean. “He murdered Tessa. He broke our rules.” Dean looked around at the surrounding angels, “Y'all can all go to hell.” He said before turning to leave but angels stopped him.

“Dean,” Cas called. I fought my restraints when they began to hold Dean same as me. “Get your filthy hands off of me!” I spat angrily, but the Angels didn't budge. Hannah looked over at me after hearing my voice and looked at Cas before pointing at me. “And her. She tried to kill us all and you chose to let her go. For all we know, she's more of a danger than any of them.”

“Hey, wait a sec-” Sam said as he saw both Dean and me forcefully held by angels but then he was also restrained. Hannah continued her rant. “You gave us order, Castiel, and we gave you our trust. Don't lose it over one man and girl.” She handed an angel blade to Cas. “This is justice. Britt and Dean can no longer be a threat to our operation if they cease to exist…”

Cas took the blade from her hand and contemplated as if he was actually considering killing us. I felt my heart drop to my feet and a lion scratching at my chest. Cas was evidently torn but he couldn’t do this. We knew him better than that. Right? But these were his brothers and sisters. If he was really anything like we knew, he would do what was necessary to win the war.

Cas looked between the two of us and ended on the blade. “No. I can't.” I was relieved but in shock. He would lose his whole army for this and then we would have no chance to get at Metatron. “Cas-” I called but was cut off by Hannah. “Goodbye, Castiel.” She said strongly before walking out, angels quietly following her out of the Command Center. I was instantly released and looking around for Olivia. She was at her desk grabbing her bag and leaving. “Olivia, you know us- me better than this, please, convince them-”

  
“You tried to kill us, Britt. You’re past saving.” I was taken aback by her final words as she walked out. She paused at the exit and looked back at us sadly, “I’m sorry.” She said before walking out completely, leaving the trio and me standing alone in the empty room.

 

+++

We all drove back to the Bunker, Brothers, and Cas in the Impala and myself in my own car. I wasn’t entirely sure what we were going to do. We lost all our manpower and it was just us 4 to go against Metatron. I headed to my room to put my bag away and sat on the bed to take a breath.

 _You’re past saving_. I tried to shove the feeling down but it crawled up and stuck. I hadn’t said a word since we parted ways at what used to be the Angel Headquarters and not even the sounds of music comforted me.

After a moment to myself, I made my way to the library where I was sure the three were, but before I could exit the hall, I was met with Sam’s back. “Guys?!” He called, getting Dean and Cas’ attention. I rounded Sam’s body and was met with Gadreel walking in from the other hall across from us, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I'm not here to fight.” He looked over at Dean and Cas who were standing on the 2 steps on the library entrance. “I thought about what you said. You're right. Metatron, he's… something needs to be done.” I looked around at everyone’s reaction and without a doubt, disgust and hatred were displayed all over.

“And we should trust you why?” Sam spat. “Because I can give him to you. I know where Metatron is. I know everything. I know the bombers. They were his agents, not yours. You don't trust me, fine. I understand. I've… made mistakes. But haven't you? Haven't we all? At least give me a chance.” I felt heat boil inside me. It was no surprise Metatron was responsible for the bombings and the kidnapping but I couldn’t help but show my distaste.

I stepped towards the angel. “Did you have a part in my abduction?”

“Britt-” Dean tried. I looked at him with an expression telling him to back off. I returned my gaze to Gadreel whos eyebrows etched together and head tilted to the side in confusion. “Pardon me?”

“Did you- have a part- in my abduction?” I asked more forcefully. Everyone in the room exchanged looks but my eyes were only on the murderer of my friend and the evil possessor who took advantage of a low spot Dean was in. Gadreel looked between the men in the room and eventually landed his gaze on me. “I had no idea. I’d only known after Metatron said he’d sent off step 3 of the plan and then explained to me what he did.” I looked back at Cas to ask if what Gadreel was saying was true and he nodded his head, confirming that he was.

Dean stepped down from the stairs completely and extended his hand to shake Gadreels. I watched the interaction, but what happened next was unexpected. As soon as the angel held onto Dean’s hand, Dean yanked the First Blade out of his jacket and slashed Gadreel deeply across the chest, exposing a blue and white light. The other men and I leaped to hold him back from attacking him anymore. He snarled under the full power of the blade and when I looked back at the angel, he fell heavily to the ground.


	35. Healthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Major Character Death, Mental Illness, Depression, mild language, sadness, maybe some others.   
> Episode: 9x23

“Dean! Hey, hey. Snap out of it.” I yelled, trying to get his attention. He growled, not meeting my eyes once. I looked back at Gadreel again and he was slumped on the floor bleeding angel grace everywhere. Dean wrangled out of Cas and Sam’s hold and I stood in front of him, blocking his path. His eyes were darkened and not looking into my eyes.

“Move!” He said darkly, holding up the blade as if it were a warning. “Drop the Blade, Dean. Please.” He tried to move around me but I just stepped in his way as he moved. “Look at me.”

He grew frustrated, “Britt, move!” Cas got a hold of Dean again and Sam reached for his right arm to try and rip the blade out of his hand. They wrestled for a moment to try and get the Blade out of his brothers’ grip. Finally getting the Blade, Sam and Cas dragged Dean to the dungeon and shoved him in.

Dean turned around to face us after he was shoved in. “The hell if you think I'm riding the pine on this one, guys.”

“Something is wrong with you, Dean. And until we figure out what, this is where you have to stay.” Sam asserted. Dean looked between the 3 of us with squinted eyes.

“And you three are gonna do what? Take on Metatron yourselves? That's smart. Oh, no, wait. No, you-” He pointed at Cas, “you lost your Angel army. And you-” He turned his attention to Sam and me, “now you're trying to lock up the one guy who has a shot at killing the son of a bitch!”

“Hell of a plan, fellas!” He yelled angrily. “And don't even get me started on you.” He said, looking my way, I looked up at Sam and in silence, the three of us turned and pushed the doors shut, locking Dean in the dungeon. The metal clicked together and the shelves of files shook as they pushed them to cover the door to cover the metal as it once was. Dean called after us after the shelves clicked into its spot.

“Look, hey, guys. Sam. Sammy! Britt, sweetheart, I didn't mean it like that!” He called as we walked out of the room in its entirety. In the library, Sam placed the First Blade into a box sitting on the table. “Guys,” Cas started, and Sam and I turned to him as he walked up to us. “Dean… wasn't wrong. My followers have abandoned us.”

I sighed, “We know, Cas.” Sam looked up from the box. “Gadreel says he can help us. From where I sit, that's more than an even trade.” We all looked over to where Gadreel was on the floor moments ago only to find it empty with a pool of blood in his place. We all looked at each other in alarm and ready to run after him but I remembered Dean was in the dungeon. “Go, I’ll stay.”

After they left, I opened the box and reached for the Blade. For someone who didn't know anything about the supernatural would’ve said that the Blade felt weightless, but for someone who was exposed to it, you could feel the evil radiating from it. Although it was powerless without its partner, the Blade was intimidating. With a blink, the Blade was bloody and no longer in my hands, but in Dean’s. Rage and bloodlust overcame his eyes and blood covered his face and body, equivalent to the scene after he killed Abaddon.

I blinked again and gasped shortly at the sight of the Blade in my hand. I placed the Blade back in its place and left it on the table, needing to get some air.

  
**Dean’s POV**  
I try to kill the man that lied to possess my brother, killed my friend, was responsible for helping out with the angel bombings, and somehow I was locked up. My stomach felt like it was closing in on itself and I turned the corner of the room and coughed harshly until something came out, which it did. After a few gross hurls, I walked over to a small mirror in a cabinet. Blood dripped from my lips and I grew disgusted at the sight.

I gathered stuff around the dungeon and prepared for a summoning spell, knowing I wasn’t going to get out on my own. I lit the ingredients on fire and Crowley appeared in the Devils Trap. He looked around, smelling the air in disgust. “What's that smell?” I looked back at the mess before training myself back to him.“What the hell's happening to me, you son of a bitch?” My insides burned and my stomach high fived my spine in pain but I kept it to myself. “Liquor before beer, bad taco? How should I know?” I ignored his jokes and cut to the chase.

“I can't turn it off! Ever since I killed Abaddon, it's- it's like this whole… other thing. I get this high and I-I-I need to kill. I mean, I really, really need to kill. And if I don't-” He cut off my confession, “You yak your guts out. It's the Mark.” I raised an eyebrow. “It wants you to kill. The more you kill, the better you feel. The less you kill, the less better you feel.”

We were within a few feet of each other and I felt sicker by the second. “How much less better?”

“One would imagine the least-best better.” He played on words and I caught on. “So dead? Well, Cain had the mark. He didn't die.”

“Cain was a demon. Your body's not strong enough to contain the blade's power.” The mention of the Blade made the skin on my fingers tingle with heat. The Mark and Blade were terrifying. The unfortunate thought that I wouldn’t be able to control myself the little that I already could, put fear in me. What if I hurt Sam or Cas? What if I hurt Britt?

“What if I got rid of it?” I dared. “You want to get rid of it?” All fear of hurting the ones I loved disappeared as the Mark amped up my need to kill. “What I want is Metatron.” Crowley’s interest was quickly peaked. “Go on.”

“But I have to get through that door, and I have to get to the blade. And you're gonna help me.” I let him out of the devil's trap and tried to come up with a plan. “Is my brother here?” He disappeared and reappeared within a millisecond. “No. Neither Moose or the angel is here but your girlfriend is. I would advise leaving now, she’ll only be unconscious for so long.”

“You knocked her out?!” I yelled. “If you’re worried that I laid a finger on her, I didn’t. I snapped my fingers. So, want to gossip more or shall we be on our way?” I walked past him to the library where a metal box sat and Britt looked as if she was sleeping on a book with her head on her crossed arms. I resisted myself from waking her up and telling her I was going after Metatron but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I opened the metal box, grabbed the Blade and met Crowley’s gaze. We left right after in the Impala.

 

+++

**Britts POV**  
I sat up in a sudden jolt from a loud noise and quickly wiped the sleep from my eyes. “Britt?” I heard Sam yell. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” I heard footsteps get closer and saw Sam rushing over. My eyes locked on the open metal box on the table and felt the weight of sleep leave my body.

“Oh, no,” Sam said, looking into the box. “What's that smell?” a voice asked in disgust. I turned around and was met with Castiel and Gadreel, the question coming from Gadreel. “Sulfur” Sam replied, turning around.

With the combination of the three of us, meaning Sam, Cas and myself, calling Dean, he didn't pick up either one. Sam left a voicemail on our last try and I tried to explain that I didn't let him go. “Britt are you sure? I know you and Dean-”

“Yes, I’m sure, Sam. I want him back to normal, too, you know. He probably summoned Crowley and had him make me sleep before getting out and leaving with the blade.” I crossed my arms 1) hurt at Sams accusation and 2) tired of justifying myself for something I didn't do. I walked down the steps to stand near Cas. “Are you sure it was Crowley?”

Sam followed, “Who else would he summon? I mean, he and Crowley have been bromancing over the Blade ever since Dean got the mark.” Gadreel stood to complete the unintentional circle of people. “The mark?”

“The mark of Cain,” Cas confirmed. Gadreel looked like he was quickly registering it. “So that's what Dean cut me with- the First Blade. In a way, that could be useful.” My face twisted in confusion. “Well, Metatron is more powerful than ever, but if Dean has the First Blade and the mark, that might give us our best chance.” I laughed softly under my breath and Sam also broke into hysteria.

“You're joking, right? An hour ago, we were ready to throw Dean into a padded cell, and now you say  
he's our best chance?” Cas looked at both of us, “Hear him out, Sam”

“Oh, right. Excuse me. Sorry, guys. Uh, sorry I'm a little less than eager to hear that our best chance is- is arming the warhead and hoping it hits the mark. This is not a bomb we're talking about. This is my brother.” Sam said, placing his hands on the sides of his body. “And your brother would not be in this alone. We can help.” Gadreel tried and I rolled my eyes. “How?”

  
Gadreel tried to explain to us that Metatron has been harnessing the Angel Tablets power to give him a God-like power which meant he was God for the time being and if he was God, he was untouchable. “Not if we can break the connection between Metatron and the tablet. That would make him just an ordinary Angel. Where's the tablet?” Cas asked. “Metatron's office.”

“Let me guess, deep in Heaven?” I sighed. “I can get us to the door.” Gadreel stated after a moment of silence. “And then what? I mean, why would they let you in? If Metatron's number two shows up with heaven's most wanted,” He gestured to Cas, “the gig is up.” Cas turned towards Sam. “Sam, we have to try.” Sam looked at me for approval and I shrugged.

“You have to stay here. Help me find Dean without being in the line of fire.” I didn't think of the request as much as I usually would. I needed to stay home a while and figure things out. Finding Dean from the inside was probably my best shot in not spazzing out on the job. “Yeah, I set the computer up and just call me when you need anything.” It was evident he as going to ask why I just went along with staying on the sidelines but he kissed my forehead and left.

 

+++

**Dean’s POV**  
Crowley and I were on our way to a woman’s house who was in a recent viral video where she was brought back to life by Metatron. In the video she was hit by a car, he revived her and whispered something in her ear and we were gonna find out what. We pulled up to an RV park and as we got closer to a specific RV, the more I was able to see that my brother was standing outside.

I got out of the Impala and walked up to him. He looked a more than annoyed to see Crowley sitting in the car. “I guess one of us doesn't need a demon to help follow a clue trail. You're looking for miracle lady, right? Yeah, she's gone. I had a nice chat with her, though.” I rolled my eyes. “Sam, whatever kind of intervention you think this is, trust me, it ain't. I'm not gonna explain myself to you.”

“Yeah, I sort of got that. I just thought you might like to know that while you two have been playing, uh, odd couple, your real friends, like Cas, like the angel you stabbed, Gadreel- they're out there right now risking their asses to help you win this fight and a girlfriend who is worried sick about you.” Sam’s sarcasm was something I really, desperately wanted to smack out of his voice. I was confused though, you would think he was lying to get me back but there was no sign of a joke. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“A fight, I might add, you made that much more complicated when you decided to stab the one angel who could actually get us to Metatron.” I could taste the saltiness in his voice and I felt anger boil in my blood. “You mean the angel that took you for a joy ride? The angel that slaughtered Kevin? That angel?”

Our angry words were exchanged. “Who you let in the front door in the first place. You tricked me, Dean. And now I'm the one who wakes up in the middle of the night seeing my hands killing Kevin, not you. So, please, when you say you don't want to explain anything to me, don't. I get it. And I also get that Metatron has to go. And I know you're our best shot to do that.”

“I'm gonna take my shot, for better or worse. No matter the consequences.” Sam looked at me in agreement. “I know. But if this is it, we're gonna do it together.” Together. With that, I assumed Britt forced him to bring her along and with the little care I had left in me, it was to make sure they were okay.

“Is Britt here?” I asked, looking around. “No, she stayed in the bunker in case something happened.” My eyebrows knitted together, “That doesn’t sound like her at all.” He sighed. “I know.” He looked at the ground and recomposed himself after a second. “You want to know what he whispered to her, right, in the video? His next stop.”

“So what are we all gollywagging on about? Chop-chop.” Crowley’s voice said from behind me. I turned around to give him a get lost face. “Excuse me. I'm not exactly demon Minion number three here. As the kids say, I've got mad skills.” He tried to joke. “Look, I don't know what you expected here, okay. I don't really care, but you wanted off the hamster wheel. Get off.”

Crowley looked between us and slacked his jaw nonchalantly. “Well, I guess I've been Winchestered. I'd wish you, boys, good luck... If I thought it would help.” And like that, he was gone.

  
**Britt’s POV**  
Id been pacing back and forth in the library after not hearing anything from Sam. A notification sounded on my laptop and a web page popped up to a “Marv” sighting. In his viral miracle video, he came out to the world as Marv and it just gave me another thing to hate about him. I grabbed my phone and called Sam to tell him where Metatron was.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hey, what’s up?” He answered nonchalantly and I felt my blood boil. “Whats up? Sam, I’ve been waiting for your call for hours to tell me what’s going on. Where the hell have you been?” There was little movement and another voice radiated through the phone. “He’s with me, sweetheart.”

Lava rushed through my veins. “Dean?! Oh, I’m so kicking your ass when you get back.” A sigh was heard from the other side of the phone and I could help but let one out as well. “But I’m glad to hear Sam got to you.” We resumed the conversation and before I could even finish telling them what I found, Sam cut me off saying that he knew where his next stop from the lady from the viral video.

“Well okay then. I guess I’m useless now. Pizza and booze are waiting for you when you get back.” A slight chuckle from the two made me smile. “I love you guys, don't do anything stupid.”

“Okay, thanks, Britt. We’ll see you when we get back.” Sam said before he hung up and I got in my car to get necessities, like food and more food.

 

+++

Several hours later, I was taking a nap before the brothers got home and my phone ringing loudly woke me up. I didn't bother to look at the caller ID when I answered and before I could say anything, Sam’s panicked voice yelled through the phone. “I- I’m pulling up to the Bunker. D- I- I need you to meet me in the garage, now.” He hung up after that and the sleep was knocked right out of me. I put on a flannel before rushing to the garage and Sam had just parked the Impala.

He rushed out and opened the back door and revealed a limp body Dean in the back seat. I was such in a state of shock that I didn't move to help until Sam was yelling my name. We carried Dean with each arm around our necks and walked through the Bunker to lay him on his bed. His bloody body and clothes dirtied my skin and dampened my hair but I didn't care one bit. Sam had tears in his eyes as he looked at his brother and stood there staring at him before silently walking out.

I grabbed a cloth and bowl of water from another room and pulled up a chair next to Dean. The white cloth was no longer white and the clear water was no longer clear. Not seeing any rise and fall of Dean’s body made me do a double take and tears welled in my eyes as I made my way to find Sam.

Sam was sitting in the dark in the library, pouring a cup of whiskey. I rounded him so I could see him. “What happened?” I asked in a hushed tone. “He knocked me out and went after him alone. Got an angel blade to the chest.” My stomach twisted in ways it never had. Not with Kevin, not with people I lost, never. “I- Okay. I just-” I tried to speak but my voice cut itself off whenever I tried. I didn't look Sam in the eye but when I got up without a word, I saw him close his eyes to hold himself back from telling me anymore.

I walked back into Dean’s room and felt entirely different than before. My heart clenched and dropped to my toes. I slowly went closer to him and sat in the seat still stationed next to him. I caressed his cheek and forced tears off of my face.

His skin was no longer warm and welcoming. The icy feeling under my fingers was spine shivering and the rage I should be having for Metatron wasn’t there. Despite everything, he was just a man. A man with killers instincts, but a man nonetheless. I tried to think of his smile and laugh, or how his hand felt wrapped around mine, or the feeling of our bodies pressed together. But anything I thought of was merely an image and not a feeling like I needed.

“Don't do this to me. Please. Not now.” I whispered.

When I waited and was hit with the fact that he would never be able to respond, my hand fell limp from his face and I cried. Memories hit and flashed, and I only cried more.

Dean took me out one night after he saw how stressed I was in helping Bobby out with managing things more frequently than even after I was no longer a secret. I had never been in the Impala before that night and I was so invested in talking to Dean that I didn’t pay attention to where we were headed.

When Dean parked, he reached in the backseat and in his hand was a box of pizza and blanket dangling with it. He raised his eyebrows suggestively and I laughed as I opened the door and got out. An empty field with nothing but the lights of the Impala illuminating it. Dean put the blanket on the hood of the Impala and we sat on it, laughing and talking, eating pizza and enjoying the freeness.

I looked up, noticing how dark it really was outside and Dean hopped off of the hood. I followed his movements as he slipped into the car and turned it off, darkening our surroundings completely. He hopped back up onto the hood and I raised an eyebrow. He smiled and grabbed my chin, turning it towards the sky.

Never had I seen so many stars in my life that the sight made my jaw slack. It was the type of sky that you only saw on the Discovery channel and all that was missing was the Morgan Freeman voiceover. I was at a loss for words from the beauty and found myself sliding off of the hood of the Impala and doing a complete 360 in attempt to absorb it all. Constellations were overpowered by the extensive specks of hot gas and it would probably make a grown man cry.

On that note, I finally looked back at Dean, who was still seated on the hood but instead of the sky, he was watching me. When he realized I was looking at him he turned his attention to the sky as if he’d been looking the entire time. I refilled the empty spot next to him and grabbed another slice of pizza.

“What’s this?” Dean asked, hinting at my right forearm where multiple gashes were healing. I looked down at it, “Werewolves are a pain in the ass.” I laughed, taking a bite of my slice of pizza. His gaze lingered for a moment before he hummed and laid his back on the windshield. I finished my slice before laying back with him.

I got up without thought and left the room to try and get a breath of fresh air even though my lungs felt like they were close to collapsing. Sam was no longer in his seat in the library and I just grabbed the pizza boxes and cases of beer from the lit up map table in the War Room and took it to the fridge in the kitchen. I should’ve thrown it away, we didn't end up eating it at all. I heard motion in the other room and didn't bother to pay attention. I had no motivation to do anything and the tears I had grown accustomed to fell freely without a care.

The metal door to the Bunker opened and closed and I kept to myself assuming it was Sam, because who else would it be? I held my head high and felt anger crawl on my skin. The feeling could make a grown man cry but I remembered what it was like to lose Kevin and to compare it to this was an insult. But I needed to be strong, do things healthily like Dean and I promised to.

The tears no longer fell after an hour or so and I decided to walk into Dean’s room and sit with him for a little, trying to absorb what I could but when I walked in, the bed was empty. Panic started to rise and I didn’t know what to do. I ran out of the room looking for Sam and his wide eyes met mine in the hallway as he was rushing to his room. He looked around in confusion and I noticed a piece of paper on the pillow. I shoved past Sam and picked it up, shocked at the writing.

“Sweetheart, Sammy, let me go.” was written in black sharpie and I passed the note to Sam who clenched his jaw after reading it. I looked sadly at him before recomposing myself and walking out to find wherever the hell Dean’d gone off to and how the hell he was alive, if he even was… 


	36. The Things We Do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Depression, sadness, grieving, mental illness, outbursts, arguing, mentions of indecency, anger management, mentions of alcohol abuse, insomnia, maybe more.  
> Episode: 10x01

There was no goodbye. Dean was somewhere whether he was himself or not. I felt like id given up. Not on him, but myself. I was cold and quiet, nowhere near what I was with Dean certainly alive and near. Id spent my time reading up on possessions and demonism while Sam “secretly” went out to torture demons to get a lead on Dean. On one of those nights, I caught him.

Sam walked into the Bunker and descended the staircase with a look that said he was expecting anything but me. Being the early hours of the day where the sun was definitely not due to rise for hours, I could understand his surprise but the dark, dead look in his eyes said something else.

“Where were you?” I asked, looking back at the pages of open books spread around the table. He swallowed hard before coughing down his voice. “Just, uh, getting a drink.” I pointed at the empty glass bottles on the other table without looking. “Where were you really?”

A sigh came from his way and I kept mindlessly reading. “I’m going to bed.” He turned around and before he made it down the steps I looked up from the books. “Did they call?” I asked. He stopped and turned around slightly. “I don't know what you're talking about-”

“The Demon. You were torturing another demon, right?” His eyebrows stitched together and I didn't wait for him to answer before continuing. “Make sure you clean that off before it dries. I like those shoes.” When he didn't answer, I went back to reading the open books, scanning for info to occupy my mind.

His figure stepped up to the side of the table and closed the book I was reading. “I’m done with this superficial “healthy”, grieving lifestyle you've put yourself in, Britt. You know what you’re doing is the exact opposite.” I felt a sharp pain in my chest and kept it to myself as I looked down at the pages unsure where to look.

“Can we not talk about this?” I asked softly. I felt small. It got easier, living without Dean, that was. In this Bunker, I blocked out the noise in the silence and kept to myself. Sam and I barely spoke to each other yet I knew everything he was doing. On a hunt he went on with Cas, he got hurt and now wears an arm sling across his chest from damaging his shoulder. But of course, torturing Demons in the middle of the woods was done with ease for him.

He’d look at me for long periods of time and try to study what was going on in my head but in all honesty, there was nothing to read, because other than a faux soft smile, I was a blank slate. Healthy was exactly what I was doing. No personality, no care, nothing. To prevent myself from total destruction, I did nothing, said nothing, and moved as if I were a shell. Sam drank to get rid of the pain and fuel his search for his brother but I did the opposite, I stayed sober so I could feel it.

As the days/weeks passed, I started to forget the sound of his voice, forgot the main details of his face. Everything became a blur. The more I refrained from refueling my memory of him, the more I couldn’t recall simple things: What he sounded like, smelled like, felt like, it was all fading from memory. You might say, “Well why don't you just look at some pictures and think about it?” And that was the problem. I didn't want to think about it. Because if I did, you know exactly what would happen.

“Right, Britt, you never want to talk about it. Because if you do, you’re afraid you won’t stop feeling sorry. Its okay to deal with things your way but you’ve gotta let me in to relieve some weight. That’s kinda what I’m here for.” I finally looked up from the closed book, feeling tears well up but I was able to keep them down as I stood up. “If he really is with Crowley like you think, I’m trying to find a way to get him back if he's possessed and in terms of dealing with things, it’s not safe for me to be anything other than to myself.” I turned around running my hands through my hair, almost clawing at my scalp. I felt the shell crack. I was going to let everything out, and I wasn’t sure how they were going to come about.

“The times I have been actually able to sleep, I can’t. I close my eyes and it's either you, him, or someone else who died and they’re bloody and cut up. I look in the mirror and he’s covered in blood, trying to talk to me. I look around the kitchen and what used to be his sad face is now a blurry face that I can’t picture anymore!” I felt my voice strain as I yelled. This was the most I’ve spoken and loudest I’ve spoken in a while and my head was starting from the untouched feelings I’ve shoved away.

“I've forgotten what he sounds like, what he feels like and- and-” I was pacing from hysteria in my confession and I was sure tears were falling harshly but I couldn’t feel them. I was numb. Even as Sam cut me off with a hug, my sobs were muffled into his chest. I let weeks of piled up heartbreak out as if it were a lego wall, it was so easy to break, and I did.

I sobbed into his chest unceasingly, my hands clutching at his plaid shirt. He held me in silence as he pet my hair while I soaked his shirt in tears. A tiny lapse passed and I pulled away, before going back in again, cries of the past few weeks worsening. The pain came in waves, seconds of sobbing broken apart by short pauses for air. I looked up at his saddened expression as I backed up and averted to the floor.

“I see him everywhere and- this PTSD crap is horrifying. I- I can’t. It- it’s not safe.” I walked off and left Sam standing there, softly calling for me to wait and I was sure he tried to register it all as he stood there alone when I didn't stop.

It hurt more to let it out than it did to keep to myself. Sam was never supposed to know. He was too busy trying to get demons to give up where Crowley was so we could find Dean and it was supposed to stay that way. The demon that hurt his shoulder was supposed to be a distraction (not one I placed) and the focus on his shoulder care should’ve ripped any attention in my direction.

 

+++

Hours later, when the sun was up, Sam knocked on the kitchen doorway to make his presence known. “I’ve got something, I think. Do- Do you want to come with?” I looked up from my coffee as he stood and nodded. “Alright, get ready.”

For the first time in a while, I got dressed in my grey suit and pulled my duffle from the closet. Sam was waiting in the garage and I looked at the Impala, almost forgetting its existence. Sam noticed my hesitation before he opened the driver side door and closing it again. “Want to take your car?” He suggested, looking softly at me. I nodded and grabbed my keys before throwing my duffle in the backseat, Sam doing the same.

We arrived at a police station to investigate a murder of some guy that Sam thought might be linked to Dean. Or should I say “Dean”. Inside, we walked up to an officer and flashed our badges. “Appreciate you coming down, agents. But I'm afraid you may have just cost Uncle Sam a tank of gas.” The officer said sincerely. “Oh, why's that?” Sam asked. “You came up here to investigate Drew Neely's murder, right?”

“Yes sir.” I agreed. “Problem is, no one's certain it was a murder at all.” Sam tilted his head slightly in confusion. “Okay, then what are we dealing with here? A suicide?” The officer guided us to a computer and I looked around, feeling the nerves of the last police station I was in. I felt my fingernails scratch at the material of my skirt.

“Self-defense, more likely. Uh, the surveillance footage was corrupted. Our techies finally managed to clean up the file. Hold on a sec now…” He pulled up the footage on the computer and turned the monitor towards Sam and me. “That John Doe right there is the one you want to keep your eye on.” He said before pressing play. When it played, on a section of the feed, a man was reading a magazine and I instantly recognised the bowlegs and his face confirmed my recognition. Sam looked closer to the screen, “Son of a bitch.” The officer told us to watch and there was no way we couldn’t.

“Okay, now, porn guy's just minding his own business. And there's Drew Neely. See the knife?” Sam and I nodded. “That's intent right there. Now watch this.” Drew Neely jumped Dean in the surveillance footage and was instantly killed by the First Blade and its owner. I stood straight from bending in to see the video and the officer continued. “Looks like a cutlass or something. I don't know what the hell this is. Problem is, we don't know if this guy's a hero or a psychopath.” He paused the video and the tape stopped on a closeup of Deans face and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

“That's the image that's getting uploaded to the wires.” He said. My head snapped in his direction but I tried to show no alarm. “Detective, do you mind if we, uh, take another look at this?” Sam asked. The officer looked back at the monitor slightly. “Knock yourself out. I'll be back in a few.” We nodded as he left and Sam instantly rewinded the footage and slowed it down to go through it frame by frame on Dean’s close up. Nothing came of the frames but on the last one, his eyes flashed to black and anger boiled in my blood.

We got the information for the location of the Gas-in-Sip and head over there as soon as we could. Sam was questioning the attendant as I pumped gas in my car. I glanced around and saw Dean standing on the side of the building, watching me, and when I blinked, he was gone.

After filling my car, I glanced over at the side of the building again and sighed when nothing was there. I walked in to see what was going on with the questioning and I walked in just as Sam said, “When the guy, uh- when- “Porn guy” came in, did he… say anything?” I looked at the two and assumed that’s what they were calling Dean. ““W-where's the porn”.”

“T-That's all he said? Did he buy anything? Use a credit card? Anything?” I asked and “Mickey” as read from the name tag, stared blankly at us. “So some guy comes in, kills another guy in your store on your watch, and you just- you what? Just keep on keepin' on?” Sam asked.

“You mean when porn guy-” Mickey started, “Can we stop calling him “Porn guy?! Please?” I cut in. Mickey looked at me before starting over. “When the guy was stabbing the other guy to death 10 feet in front of me, and I was having a total code-brown moment in my favorite freakin' pants because I thought I was next, did I conduct a field interview? No.”

Mickey pulled a phone from behind the counter. “Oh, hey. Uh, can you do me a solid? Found this wedged under the T.P. I think it's the dead guy's phone, and, uh, if you're heading back to the station…” He trailed off as he passed Sam the phone.

Outside the Gas-in-Sip, Sam scrolled through Drew Neely's phone. He pulled up a text message that read "Winchester. Amherst Junction, WI Gas n' Sip B/W 11a-12p. Long live Abaddon." and Sam called the number. He placed the phone on the hood of my car and put it on speaker.

“You're dead.” Crowley’s British accent flowed in surprise. “Nope. Just using a dead man's phone.” Sam replied.

“Moose. Took you long enough. Your brother and I were beginning to wonder if you'd hit another dog. You know?” I crossed my arms and refrained myself from yelling at the demon to trip over an angel blade.

“My brother is dead, Crowley. I know you have some freaking demon parading around in his meat suit, and trust me, you are gonna pay for that.” Sam looked at me in insurance and I nodded in agreement. “Moose. Moose. I'm afraid you haven't allowed yourself to dream quite big enough here. Your brother is very much alive, courtesy of the mark. And the only demonized soul inside of Dean is his and his alone… Wee bit more twisted, a little more mangled beyond human recognition, but, I can assure you, all his. There, now. Feel better?” My eyebrows stitched together with both confusion and anger. This had to be some trick. Right?

“And the, uh, Abaddon supporters you've been sending to kill my brother, how does Dean feel about that double-cross?” Sam sassily remarked. “If that's what you think is happening, then you're more out of your depths than I thought. And speaking of double-crossing, I’m sure you’re not pursuing your brother alone. Where’s the little snake?”

I held a finger up to my lips and Sam ignored his question. “I don't know how you did this, what kind of… Black-magic stunt you pulled, but hear me- I will save my brother or die trying.” His tone turned darker as the sentence went on. “You know what tickles me about all this? It's what's really eating you up. You don't care that he's a demon. Heck, you've been a demon. We've all been demons. No, it's that he's with me and he's having the time of his life. You can't stand the fact that he's mine.” I clenched my jaw and could practically feel the steam shooting out of my ears. Sam looked over and noticed my close outburst and put the phone on mute. “Take a walk.” He said sincerely but urgently.

I turned around and walked in the empty areas of the lot. I could hear bits and pieces of Sam arguing with the dramatic demon but I couldn’t get Crowley’s words out of my head that the mark brought Dean back and made him a demon. What if he didn't want to come back to us? He must’ve liked his new life to not come back to us… to me.

The floor had my attention as if it were the most interesting thing in the world but once I looked up, I was face to face with Dean, the surveillance footage Dean, not any other that I’d been seeing. We stared at each other for a moment and I looked down at the Blade now shoved into my stomach. I jumped at the action and when I looked up to see him again, nothing was there, nor the blade in my stomach.

I turned my head to see Sam clench his jaw as he watched me and when I could fully realize that we were staring, he waved me over. On the hood of my car, the phone Sam called with was next to his phone, tracing the call and flashing a location. The Black Spur in North Dakota.

During the drive, I glanced over at Sam watching me. “What now?” I asked, tired of the puppy eyes staring into my soul. He looked away for a moment, inhaling before talking. “Is it like that in the Bunker, too? The blend into reality?” Sam was quiet when he spoke and I felt myself grow conscious of myself. I choked down my nerves before sighing.

“Um, yeah, it, uh, it’s something I thought I could get used to but once I do, the pictures stop. A-and I thought that if I always thought I was used to it would make it stop completely but no. I still see my worst fears and darkest nightmares…” I could feel Sam thinking from my side of the seat and I looked over at him with a slight smile. “But I'll be okay. We always are.”

When I turned back to focus on the road, Sam, Dean, Kevin, and Bobby were all in the middle of the road bruised and bloody, holding guns to their own heads. I pressed on the breaks to bring the car to a halt as if it were going to stop them. From the corner of my eye, I could see Sam looking between me and the road. He called my name but the horrid feeling in the pit of my stomach made me step out of the car.

“Britt, are you okay?” Sam asked as he got out the car. I looked at the spot where they were and nothing was there. “Yeah, um, maybe you should drive…”


	37. Lost and Still Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: depressed!Britt (when isn't she), fighting, Demon!Dean, Dean being a dick.  
> Ep: 10x02

Sam called Cas on the drive to North Dakota and updated him on what we've learned about Dean. I didn't want to believe it. Neither of us did. The very things we fought and killed, Dean had become. I remembered the moment I knew I wasn’t going to see the day where the world was demon free.

Bobby came home one night after acting weird and being more loving than usual and told me that he helped shut the gates of Hell but after they had burst open and several thousand demons spilled out into the world. The only hope I had was the trials that Sam almost died for but, like Dean, I would’ve rather let the demons roam than let him die. 

We pulled up to the bar we traced the call to and I passed Sam his badge. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and before I could get a look, he stepped out of the car. I followed after and caught up with him as we met the security guard outside. He had a black eye and arm sling equivalent to Sam. We flashed our badges and I looked him over. 

“What happened to you?” I asked. The guard shrugged, “Got into some fight with a douche.” Sam showed him the paper and I realized it was a photo. “Hmm. That's the guy. I called 911, but he was gone before they showed up. That dude get to you, too?” 

Sam looked at his own sling and chuckled half-heartedly. “Oh, uh, no. This is, uh, just a… hunting accident.” The security guard and Sam shared looks as if it was a sign of condolence. “Uh, could you do us a favor and call if you see him again?” I held out a card and the guard took it with his free hand. 

“Yeah. You bet.” We sent our thanks and walked off to the car. Inside, I sat for a moment.  “Where to now?” I asked, almost moving to turn on the AC when I remembered it was broken. “There’s a hotel we passed not too far from here.” 

With that, I turned the car on and listened to Sam’s directions to the hotel. As he paid for our rooms, I waited in the car and pulled down the flap above me. A picture of Sam, Dean, and Bobby and other photos were clipped together with a paperclip above me. I was able to find them in the ash of what was left of Bobby’s house after the Leviathans set it to its flames and some were of my own. I admired the photos and sighed. I did that a lot. Sigh. An annoying, simplistic way of saying I felt sorry for myself. 

When I saw motion in the corner of my eye, I placed the photos back in their place and pushed up on the flap before Sam sat in the car. He eyed me as if he saw me put the photos away and if he did, he didn't speak on it. “Room 27 A” I turned the car on and drove over to our room. 

The bed wasn’t as comfortable as the ones in the Bunker, but then again, nothing was comfortable anymore after years of darkness came back to haunt me. My breathing was cut short often by a memory or new fear and I didn't understand them anymore. I wasn't scared of Dean, I never was. I dreaded what the Mark was going to do and somewhere inside, I was happy he was alive. Weeks of dead ends and we finally had something. Despite the black eyes, I just hoped he was the same. 

Sam and I didn't talk much that night. There was barely an exchange of words over dinner, nothing more than a goodnight before bed and I hated every second of it. Even in the Bunker Sam would talk to me about anything, even if I didn't respond. I asked for the sesame chicken, he passed it. He presented suggestions or a plan when we found him and I listened. 

The morning was the same thing, minimal. I woke up hours before Sam and looked back at everything I read about demonic possessions but nothing came of it because, at the end of it all, Dean wasn’t possessed. When Sam woke up, he got ready in case we got a call and because I was already ready since the early hours of the day, I sat, looking out the window.

“Breakfast?” Sam asked and I handed him my keys on his way out. He wasn’t even gone for a minute and he stepped back in after swinging the door open. “Let's go.”

 

+++

At a bar, Sam and I roamed the entrance and I stayed behind, following him. A few notes of a piano were heard and my chest tightened at the thought that it could’ve been him in the very next room. Sam slowly walked in and I didn’t let myself be visible to Dean as I stayed in the hallway. 

“Hiya, Sam,” Dean said. His voice was dark and rough, rockier than his hungover mornings and the sound of it was foreign. If I didn't know it was Dean we were here to see, I wouldn’t have recognized it. “Hey, Harv, why don't you go grab a smoke?” The bartender, Harv, looked to the side, put down a glass he was cleaning and walked out. “Who winged you?" Dean asked.

“Does it matter?” Sam’s voice was helpless but determined. His brother was before him as a demon and honestly, I’d be the same way, maybe worse. “Not really. I told you to let me go.” Dean's darkness radiated and I felt myself grip the bottom of my shirt into my fists. 

“You know I can't do that. By the way, your, uh, pal Crowley… Sold you out.” Dean sounded like he was getting up from his seat. “Sounds like him.” He said. Sam’s body was visibly tense. “Dean, hold on a second. You don't have to do this. Look, we know how to cure demons. You remember that?” 

Deans dark voice replied nonchalantly, without a care in the world. “Little Latin, lot of blood. It rings a bell. Did you ever stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn't have bailed?” Sam’s head tilted, “That was Crowley.” He tried to believe. I closed my eyes knowing Dean was gone. Long gone. There was no way to classify them as the same person because they weren't. 

“It really wasn't.” you could practically hear the smile in Deans voice.  There was silence for a moment and Sam interrupted it. “It doesn't matter, all right? 'Cause whatever went down, whatever happened, we will fix it.” He was sure of himself but the other two people in the room had no hope left. Not with how he was now. 

“Will we? 'Cause right now, I'm doing all I can not to come over there and rip your throat out... with my teeth. I'm giving you a chance, Sam. You should take it.” I almost reached out to Sam to get us out to come up with a better plan but he didn't even bat an eyelash in my direction. He thought this was gonna work. 

“I'm gonna have to pass,” Sam said confidently and I almost hit the back of my head on the wall as I closed my eyes and sighed in frustration. “Well, I'm not walking out that door with you. I'm just not. So, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me?” 

“No,” Sam said instantly and with slight shock. “Why? You don't know what I've done. I might have it coming.” The fact that I hadn’t walked in there and kicked the person's ass myself was surprising. The amount of nonrelativity to Dean’s character in that room was sickening to his name and I wanted to rip  _ that _ person’s throat out just for pretending to be Dean. 

“Well, I don't care. Because you are my brother. And I'm here to take you home.” Dean laughed and mocked him, “ "You're my brother, and I'm here to take you home.” Yeah, what is this, a Lifetime movie? Huh? With your puppy-dog eyes?” He laughed more, “Oh, thanks, Sammy. I needed that.” 

I couldn’t take it anymore and stepped out of the hallway, meeting Deans split-second glance before he turned his attention to his brother. “Really? Low blow, Sam, even for you.” I ignored the love I felt from seeing him alive and kept my stance strong as I took out the sigil etched handcuffs. Deans look returned to me, well, the cuffs, and he raised an eyebrow. 

“You really think those are gonna work?” He asked, still talking to Sam. “There's one way to find out."

Dean grabbed the First Blade off of the piano and advance towards us. Sam and I fought him with all that we could and despite his handicapness, Sam was able to fight his brother pretty well. Throughout the fight, we tossed the handcuffs to each other to try and get a hold of him but nothing was stopping him. When Sam punched his brother with full force and his attention shifted to me, Dean advanced my way in strides and my back touched the wall. I looked down to the Blade retracting to shove itself into my stomach but before it could spring in my direction, Dean hesitated. And in that moment of hesitation, he was Dean again. 

But I didn't want it to be, not for the moment. “Do it.” His gaze shifted to look into my eyes for the first time since I revealed myself and I felt tears well, “Do it.” I repeated. He almost looked like I snapped him out of his demonism completely but it was cut short by Sam spraying holy water onto Dean from behind. His skin smoked up as he yelled in pain. Sam put the handcuffs on his brother's wrist and Dean pierced daggers into his brother's eyes. 

Dean was handcuffed to the backseat of my car and I sat in the driver’s seat as I waited for Sam. As Sam was handing the First Blade to Crowley, Deans sinister voice started to speak. “How long did you two wait to bang? An hour, a day?” I felt a clench in my throat as I swallowed harshly. I kept my look forward but his voice was louder. Closer. 

“Because that’s what you are, a distraction. Sam needed something to get off his mind off of finding me, that’s why it took so long. And I bet you even though about me as you did it, hoping that you could picture him as me instead.” His voice turned to an evil whisper towards the end and he leaned back in his seat, satisfied as he watched a hot tear fall down my cheek through the rearview mirror. 

“You should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” I muttered, turning on the car and honking the horn in frustration. Sam turned around and Crowley looked over at me, glaring. Sam moved towards the car but before he got in, Dean said one last thing that was meant to haunt me, and it did. 

“Oh I will, and Sam, too. And I won’t hesitate then.”


	38. Code Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Demon!Dean, Breakout, minor fluff, Major Character Death(s) (Maybe), Hell, grief, yada yada yada  
> Ep: 10x03

Dean was in the dungeon strapped to a chair in the middle of the devils trap and because of the fact that he was a demon, he couldn’t just waltz out of it like Sam or I could. Sam went out to get more holy water and bags of donated blood to try and cure Dean of his demonism like they almost did to Crowley for the final trial however many months ago. With Dean the way he was, I refused to sleep. How could I? I wanted him back, I did, but it was hard to think that we ever could, that mark would still be on his arm no matter what and thinking about it ripped the ability to sleep peacefully right out of me.

The metal entrance door of the bunker opened and I looked up from my 3rd cup of coffee to see Sam swinging a cooler with his free hand as he descended the stairs. “Did you get any sleep?” He asked as he sat the cooler on the map table. “Not while he’s like this.” I ran a hand through my hair and stretched in my chair.

“Well, I’ll be down there if you need me. Okay?” He kissed my forehead, and dragged the cooler off the table, taking it with him to start the process of trying to cure Dean. Moments later, Deans roars echoed through the bunker walls and I squeezed my eyes shut from the torturous sounds. And just like that, everything was dead.

I walked down towards the dungeon and felt everything pulling me back. Sam strongly advised against me going down there but I needed to know that things were moving along weather it was going to work or not. 

They were talking, more like arguing, and their voices got louder as I approached the room.

“You want me to debate you? This isn’t even the real you I’m talking to.” Sam spat, probably rolling his eyes. “Oh, it’s the real me, all right. The new real me- the me that sees things for what they really are. Winchesters plus one. Do-gooders. Fighting the natural order. Let me tell you something- guys like me, we are the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.” Dean said darkly, taunting his brother. There was silence for a moment and everything was dead once again. But by then, I was already inside.

“We do what we can,” I said, making Dean tilt his head to look around his brother and Sam followed his gaze. “Look who decided to join the party. And are you sure about that?” He said, now looking back at Sam as if he were the one to have said it.

“‘Cause, see, from where I’m sitting… There ain’t much of a difference from what I turned into to what you already are.” Sam glanced at me before looking at his brother, “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“I know what you did when you went looking for me. I know how far you went. Crowley told me all about it. So let me ask you… which one of us is really a monster? Hmm? Starting to come back to you now?” I looked at Sam, and he let out a breath as the gears in his head turned.

Dean continued, “You were trying to get a twenty on Crowley and me from any demon you could snag. But Crowley didn’t want to be found, and no one showed when you summoned. But you found a way, didn’t you, Sam?” Dean must’ve hit a nerve because Sam was deep in thought as Dean spoke to him, tauntingly. “You would have liked to have gotten there before the deal went down, but you didn’t really care about poor ol’ Lester, did you?”

“Oh, and so you know, I killed Lester myself. And that wife of his married the tattooed guy.” Sam closed his eyes and slammed his hand on the table where the syringes of blood and cooler with the packs sat. “I never meant-” Sam tried, and before I could ask, Dean retaliated, angrier.

“Who cares what you meant?! That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it? Wow. You might actually be worse than me! I mean, you took a guy at his lowest, used him, and it cost him his life and his soul. Nice work.” Sam rushed over to his brother and plunged a needle into his neck and Dean screamed in pain. Sam tossed the syringe onto the table once it was emptied and hunched over the table, face away from me.

“Let me ask you this, Sammy: If this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam?!” Dean yelled after panting for a few seconds. I put my hand on Sam’s shoulder and told him to take a break and call Cas to see where he was. He raised his head to look at me and then he looked back at his brother, looking back at me worriedly. I just nodded and urged him to take a break. He eventually gave in and walked out of the dungeon and past the room that hid it behind cabinets.

Dean huffed as if he couldn’t catch his breath and quickly recovered when I turned my head slightly to look at him. I put my attention to the syringes of blood. “How are you feeling?” I asked softly. “Other than my blood boiling under my skin? Peachy,” he replied with subtle heaved breathing.

I ran my finger over the glass and felt Dean’s eyes on me. The chair on the other side of the table caught my eye and I grabbed it, sliding it to where the back was facing Dean. I tried to focus on the cold feel of the chair other than the fact that my boyfriend who was dead, wasn’t, and was a black-eyed evil sonuvabitch instead. His green eyes were old and darkened, no longer looking at me the lovingly way they wouldn’t dare change if they were on me.

Trying to piece the memory of someone you could no longer truly remember was one of the hardest things I’d ever tried to do. Dean was a mystery that I couldn’t solve, not anymore. The feeling of being in his warm embrace was forever in the past along with the sound of his soft voice when he talked to me. There was a change and I had to adapt to it. Dean may or may not be Dean again… but I needed him to be and seeing him sitting there with evil in him was heartbreaking.

“Like what you see?” He finally said after minutes of staring at each other.

“I think there would be a problem if I didn't.” I could tell that my answer and tone took him by surprise, and to be fairly honest, I didn't see it coming myself. He expected me to beg, and beg he would’ve loved, but I guess the old habits started to kick in and I was terrified.

“Yeah about that-” He started, and I cut him off. “Yeah, I know, sucks. We had a good thing going there, pre-demon of course.” I raised an eyebrow almost testingly and telling by the slacked jaw and tongue in his cheek. I’d gotten to him. “Really?” He asked darkly, almost jutting his head back from disbelief.

“Oh yeah, but I mean, when you died and came back, the you I knew and cared about stayed behind.” He tilted his head as a taunt and raised an eyebrow. “I never really liked that Dean, he was always kind a dick.” I pursed my lips in thought and jutted my head in agreement and consideration. He wasn’t wrong.

I tapped on my chair before standing up and pushing it aside. “Okay, so the old you is dead, right? Then did your little crush on me just roll over to your new life?”

“How do you figure?” He asked, eyeing me. “Well, you could’ve killed me in that bar, but you didn't. So, either “Deanmon” has a crush or the real you is still in there.” His eyes darkened to try and emphasize that he wasn't in there.

“Why would I have a crush on you? You were dead weight then, and you're dead weight now. I bet you still see me, or Sam, or Bobby all dying over and over again in your dreams. Hell! Maybe you still flinch when you see lightning, or hear the sound of a dog barking. How could I have a crush on someone who’s broken?” He was trying to make me mad and honestly, it didn't affect me like I thought it would. Then again, it wasn’t like he was saying anything new.

I crossed my arms. “So you just hesitated because you’re weak. Makes sense.”

“Oh I won’t hesitate this time, sweetheart.” As the nickname rolled off his tongue, I uncrossed my arms and turned to the table with the syringes and grabbed one of them. “Are we gonna play doctor?” He asked intrigued and as I moved forward he looked devilish at me without batting an eyelash in the syringes direction. In a quick movement, he placed his foot between my legs, twisted it and brought me onto his lap. I was close to moving away but I found myself not being able to.

We breathed heavily in the closeness of our space and I fiddled with the syringe behind his neck, contemplating stabbing him with it and leaving at that moment. His eyes raked my body as it was on his and when he finally looked me in my face, I was at a loss for words. His aura shifted as we sat there, I could feel it.

“We’re not that different, yenno.” He meant him and the Dean he claimed to have no longer been which we both knew was bull, especially considering the whole broken speech he just gave.

I twirled the syringe in my hand as he eyed me as I sat there trying to read him and trying to push myself to do it. He jutted himself up and forward so his lips were on mine. The feeling was foreign and definitely not something I could recognize. As he furthered himself onto me, I pierced his skin with the needle and instead of groaning out in the open like he had been doing, he only kissed me harder.

I pulled away, hovering his hissing lips. “Too different,” I whispered as I peeled myself off completely. I slammed the syringe onto the table, breaking the glass into pieces and walked off. Sam was coming towards me in the hall with a questioning look on his face. “I gave him his next dose, I’ll be in my room.”

In my room I sat on my bed and felt my blood pumping through my body as I wrapped my hand in a gauze wrap. First he had the nerve to insult me, and then try and convince me he was the same as before he died? His lips didn't even taste like him, at least I didn't think so. Some recognition would’ve sparked if he had, but there wasn’t any. It was sad to say but, I had wished he stayed dead instead of having to see him like that. I had no hope for him to ever be the same and if things did work, the mark was still going to be on his arm.

Sam rushed into my room and covered my mouth with his free hand. His eyes were wide and alert, scaring me. “We need to go.” He whispered. I nodded and we rushed out of my room. Sam fumbled with the keys to get into the control room but after his shaky hand calmed to put the key in, we were in. A loud boom was heard and we looked around to find the lockdown button or switch.

Suddenly, the lights shut off and a red light flashed as an alarm began to sound. I looked over at Sam, who still had his hand on the switch. “Smart, Sam! Locking the place down. Doors won’t open. I get it. But here’s the thing: I don’t want to leave! Not ‘til I find you!” Deans deep, dark voice echoed loudly in the Bunker and Sam and I rushed out of the control room. I accidentally slammed the door close, making a huge clatter.

I cursed myself under my breath and jogged after Sam. Dean’s voice echoed once again. “You two can, uh… blame yourselves for me getting loose. All that blood you pumped into me to make me human… Well. The less demon I was, the less the cuffs worked. And that Devil’s Trap? Well, I just walked right across it.” As we slowed our pace and turned corners of what felt like a labyrinth, we tried to distance ourselves further from his voice but everywhere we went, it felt like there was really nowhere to go.

Sam urged that we go to the control room to trap Dean but I urged that we go to the roof. That’s where I lost him. Seconds after running in the possible right direction, the lights turned back on and I stopped, looking around in short breaths. After faint argument could be heard in the far distance, loud bangs echoed in the halls and Sam’s yelling for his brother to stop made me feel my heart banging in my chest.

I heard running and Dean calling for both me and his brother. I hid behind a wall before turning the corner and I finally felt like I could cool my breath after heavily breathing. For some dumb reason, I took this as a time to reflect on the situation at hand: my boyfriend, who was dead, wasn’t and was a demon loose in the Bunker trying to kill both his brother and me. Wonderful. The only thing missing from this was a panic attack which I was probably speaking too soon on.

Before I continued to turn the corner, I looked down the hall and found it empty. I looked behind me and was met with a dark grinning Dean swinging a hammer in my direction. I ducked just before it smashed my head into the wall. I stood up straight and before I could flee, Dean’s eyes were absorbed in black and his hand gripped my throat.

I tried to free myself but he just held on tighter and I no longer felt the ground underneath me. “Dean-” I tried, feeling my face go numb slowly, starting from my throat up. “I told you I’d get to you, sweetheart.” He grinned as he watched my color change. My fighting slowed and felt weakened as the numbness reached my arms and legs.

“Y- You ca-can fight t-this.” I struggled, trying to gasp for air.

Black dots bounced around my vision and a tear slipped from the end of my eye as my body fell limp. My body was numb, and so was my mind. I couldn’t feel anything and the black dots had overtaken my vision completely. I no longer felt Deans grip on my throat but I felt something more solid, at least I thought so, and then everything seeped into nothingness.

 

+++

Maybe I didn't die, but it sure felt like I did. My throat was dry and I didn't even need to speak to know it was. I sat up, feeling the thumping of a headache and saw that I was in my bed. Moving my neck hurt when I got off of the bed. I sulked over to the still broken mirror and turned on the light to see better. Faint bruises marked my skin and I closed my eyes for a moment.

I sighed and turned around to change my shirt. After I changed, I was face to face with a blood-covered Sam. “He spared you.” He cried and panic set in. I rushed out of the room and passed the dungeon to see it empty. My heart pounded in my chest and I rushed around the Bunker calling out for Sam but got no response.

“Sam!” I cried and almost slipped on liquid as I ran down the hallway. I looked down and saw blood streaks on the floor and bloody handprints on the lower wall. “Sam…?” I followed the trace of blood to Deans room and slowly pushed the door open. Deans red overshirt back was to me and when he turned around, his black eyes pierced my soul and his hands were red, covered in his brother's blood as he laid on the bed, motionless.

I gasped harshly and sat up, coughing from the hoarseness of my throat. I swung my legs off the bed and sat trying to catch my breath. As I walked up to the broken mirror I could see the bruises from the light peeking from underneath the door. Not bothering to change, I reached for the door knob and twisted it open, squinting at the brightness.

“Sam?” I called. No response. I speed walked over to the dungeon and it was empty. Growing fearful of the nightmare that could’ve been a reality, I rushed through the Bunker in search for Sam. The longer I didn't get a response, the more I thought I really was dead and in an infinite loop of Hell as a form of torture.

I heard footsteps behind me and I was ready to see Sam’s face but instead, Castiel jogged towards me. “Hey, hey, what happened? Are you okay?” He asked.

“Cas? Where's Dean? I-Is Sam okay?” He looked behind him. “He’s fine. He went to go get some food. Are you okay? I can hear your heart beating louder than usual.” I looked behind him and behind myself, feeling anxious. “You have bruises, Britt. Let me-” He raised his hand up to my forehead and healed me before I could register it.

“What’s going on?” I asked confused by his calmness. “We did it.” My eyebrows reached the roof. “We- we what? He- Deans-” I couldn’t form proper words because they piled and overcame the other and Cas gave a single nod. “Yeah, but one problem still remains. Sooner or later, the mark of Cain will become an issue.” I took in his words and nodded but my need to see Dean, my Dean, the real Dean, took over everything.

I hugged him with all I could (even though he was extremely awkward as usual) and tried to prepare myself for seeing Dean when I let go and walked down the hall. My hands were sweaty and I didn't understand why. It wasn’t like I was meeting him for the first time. Maybe I was. It had been so long since I was able to think of him familiarly that trying to think about a before was hard. Staring at a wall when I woke up for weeks on end was simply staring at a wall, not remembering back on him at all and in keeping to myself, I lost myself.

Dean was on his bed looking through pictures and I took in his presence before I nervously knocked on the doorframe. His head snapped up in my direction and his eyes widened as I stood there. He stood from the bed and evidently held himself back for a moment as I stepped in. I didn't know weather to kiss him or punch him in the face but I was in such a state where I think I would just stare at him for the miracle he was.

Dean sighed in relief as he engulfed me in his arms. I held him and felt myself wetting his shirt from the fact that he was back, we finally did something right. My heart clenched at the thought of losing him before and I just held on tighter. After what felt like forever, his grip loosened. We pulled away and I shoved the wetness of my cheeks. I punched him in the arm, hard.

“Don't do that again.” He held his arm and softly laughed, a sound I didn't know I needed to hear. He rounded me to the door and closed it, rubbing his arm still. I sat on the bed, folding my hands in my lap. “How-how were things?” He asked softly, looking over at me as he sat next to me.

I bit down on my lip in thought. “Hell.” I breathed out in an almost laugh. I looked over, meeting his saddened expression and continued, “The longer you were gone, the less I remembered you. I became a shell trying to grief healthy like I would’ve thought you wanted…”

“I thought I- I thought I killed you, Britt. I said those things to you-” Dean said lowly and I raised my hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes at the feeling. “But you didn't, okay? And I’m fine and better than I’ve been in a while.” He fluffed his eyes open and I felt my chest tighten as I waited for his black eyes to appear but when they were their normal candy apple green, I almost had a breath of relief.

“Are you- did Cas cure you?” I let my hand fall slowly at Deans intended question. “No, I don’t wanna drain the little grace he has…” His eyebrows touched. “Well is it getting any better?” I looked down, shaking my head. He put his hand in mine and it was my turn to savor the feeling. I turned my head to see his staring at the wall with an unrecognizable mix of emotions.

“You should rest. It’s been a long day…” I patted his hand as it held my right and stood up. Yet as I moved to walk away, my hand was outstretched with Deans hand still holding it, making me do a slight jolt. “I- Please, a little longer.”

We did nothing and said nothing until Sam came back with food for us all. And with the thought of losing Sam not too long before, I held him in a tight hug when I saw him again. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I didn't have to explain myself for him to know what I was apologizing for. I kept to myself, I doubted the plan, I shut him out, and I was wrong to.

Dinner was a declaration of pretending to push things into the past, which I was willing to do, but we couldn’t ignore the remaining issue: the mark. It wasn’t my place to bring it up, especially with the fact that I, in no way, planned to be the bearer of bad news. So we sat there and ate.

That night with Dean was filled with nothingness. Sleep wasn’t even a factor. Anything more than my hand in his was too much for us. Dean was quiet the majority of the night and I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as if he were to slip away at any given moment. At some point in the night, I told him what I spent his missing presence doing after he asked and when I was done, he outstretched his arm for me to rest my head on his shoulder.

“I am proud that you beat the craziness that you are, but I shouldn’t have put you in that position. I’m sorry.” I lifted my head off his shoulder and moved to sit directly in front of him. “Dean, you have nothing to apologize for, okay? You had a shot and you took it. It might not have ended the way it did if you didn't knock Sam out, but you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

“But I tried to-” I held his chin in my hand. “You came back to me even at your worst, Dean Winchester. Don't stay stuck in the past and lose everything we have right now.” 


	39. Fun House Mirror of the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Teenager, talks of nightmares, detention centers, mentions of death(s), blood (lots of it)  
> Ep: 10x09

For weeks we’d been taking cases of normal monsters to get back in the swing of things (mostly because Heaven and Hell were quiet until last week) and to be completely honest, It really was as if Dean had never left. At first, it was hard to hear everyone try to talk to each other normally because it was really strained and awkward but after a few days, everything was almost back to normal. Not including myself of course, because even if everything's looking up for us, something always has to be wrong.

I often woke up feeling Deans hand clenching my throat and staring at me with black eyes, and other nights I’d wake up from sitting in a pool of Sams blood and feeling a blade come in through my spine. I called Cas the other night when I couldn’t take it but hung up before the call fully registered and I sat on the floor with my back on the wall and knees to my chest to try and catch my breath for the rest of the night. Some nights I was able to go back to sleep, but other nights it was out of the question.

Last week, the field of demons were reintroduced after a witch hunt where the witch somehow got away when our focus shifted for a second. Even though demons were a factor again, we cared more about Dean and his progress of really getting back into the swing of things.

I looked at the time on my phone and walked to Dean’s closed room door, knocking. “Dean, baby, wake up.” I listened into the door to try and hear any movement but there was none, there was dead silence. Thinking the worst, I opened the door expecting to see an empty bed but Dean was there, sweating and twitching every other moment. I didn't know if I should have woken him up or anything but I knew if I was having a nightmare, I’d want someone to pull me out of it.

I crept into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. I wiped the sweat off his forehead and felt the heat of his skin. Then I softly shook him as I called his name in a hushed undertone. After the first few attempts, he woke up with a start and gasped as he hat up on the bed. He looked around, breathing hard and kind of took a double take when he saw me sitting there. He looked down at the mark on his arm and I tried not to pay mind to it as I brushed his damp hair back with my hand to regulate his breathing.

 

 **Deans POV**  
I'll never be able to tell you what it was like to be a demon. Never. But maybe that was because I already felt like one because of the mark. By comparison, the only difference was the black eyes and carelessness to kill any and everyone.

Things were hazy in terms of memory but I do remember me trying to kill my brother and Britt more than once. I could still feel her throat in my hand when I went to sleep at night and I remember the pure look of horror on Sam’s face when I broke through the door with a hammer from the room he tried to lock me in.

Britt and I slept in the same bed some nights and majority of the time, it was her who woke up in sweat and not me. We’d always talk about it and when she was done, I’d hold her, and kiss her forehead, trying to calm her down. I talked to Cas about healing her and of course, he said he would, but if he was back to himself or at least recharged.

I couldn't keep doing this to her. I felt like I was holding her hostage and just by being with her I was easily putting her in the line of fire of, well, myself. I shouldn't think that way because honestly, as long as I was busy hunting, or working on Baby, I was fine. 

 

 **Britts POV**  
In the library, Dean and I were watching an old episode of The Three Stooges. I sat with my back on one armrest and legs hanging over the other one as I sat on Dean and we laughed at the stupidity of the show.

“What are y’all laughing at?” Sam said as he came into the library. I tilted my head back to see him walking in and smiled at him. “Oh, hey. Hang on. You gotta see- this is a classic.” Dean said, looking briefly at his brother. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Sam smiled.

“Oh, yeah. Better than ever.” Dean mirrored his brother's smile and the amount of relief from all the crap made me smile too. Sam put a grilled cheese sandwich down in front of Dean, and he immediately went for it. “Oh, hello, beautiful.” He said as he pulled the sandwich apart, performing a mouthwatering cheese pull before taking a bite. He moaned at the taste and Sam and I looked at each other with odd looks and turning it back to Dean enjoying his sandwich.

“You want some alone time with that thing?” Sam asked, almost laughing. Dean shook his head and mumbled with his mouth full. I grabbed the plate from the table and put it under his chin. “You sure?” Sam ghost a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah. Watch this.”

I put the plate down on my stomach and Dean reached over me to turn the computer around. We all laughed as we watched the stooges go on with their shenanigans. Sam got serious for a moment when he caught a glimpse of the Mark on Dean’s arm. We caught each other's eyes and I smiled, nodding once, telling him things were really okay and when we looked away from each other, we returned to laughing at the show when Dean laughed at the computer screen.

Not too soon after that Dean got a call from Cas saying that we needed to head over ASAP. We got ready faster than ever and were on our way. The car ride was the most eventful ride we’d had in a while. Dean played his cassette tapes louder and rocked to it with every ounce of energy he had. From the way, he lit up there as no way Sam and I couldn’t help but sing and rock along with him.

 

We pulled up to a restaurant and met with the trenchcoated angel. As we stood casually outside of the entrance, Cas explained to us what happened and I didn't feel like I was holding my breath anymore. “This is why you called us? This is your emergency?” Dean asked, not believing our purpose for being here. Cas answered in urgency, and shocked with Dean’s question. “Yes-”

“No, Cas. An emergency is a dead body, okay? Or- or a wigged-out angel, or the Apocalypse, take three. Some chick bolting on you is not an emergency. That’s… that’s every Friday night for Sam.” I laughed a little at the last comment and Sam gave me a look from hearing a giggle and I coughed my laugh off. Then he gave his brother a look. “Dude.”

“This isn’t just “some chick.” I’m responsible for her.” Cas claimed. Claire Novak was Castiel’s vessels daughter. She probably hated Cas more than anything and the fact that he was all of a sudden trying to reach out to her was probably putting an even more sour taste in her mouth.

Dean leaned his neck towards Cas and shrugged. “Since when? You met her once, how many years ago?” Before Cas could answer, and probably be hurt by Deans “lack of presence” question, I stepped in. “Look, Cas. Let’s say we find Claire, okay… Then what?”

“She rolled you, and then she ran, okay? It’s pretty clear that she doesn’t want to play house.” I gave Dean a look to back down and he raised his hands up in surrender. But he was right. We wouldn’t want to drag her into our world and ruin her even more. There wasn’t really much we could do if anything at all.

“I understand. But I need to know that Claire is safe. And I need your help.” Cas confessed and Sam sighed softly. I put my hands in my back pockets, thinking of a plan. “All right. Uh… Why don’t we go ask around at the group home?” Sam proposed.

“Uh, you know what? Cas and I are going to stick here in case she circles back. You two go ahead.” Dean took the keys to the Impala out of his pocket and held it out to drop into Sam’s hand. Cas thanked us before we walked off to check the detention center that Claire went to frequently.

At the detention center, Sam asked more question than I did. I looked around the halls taking in the familiarity of the center. I was in one frequently when I was growing up. My dad would dress in his FBI suit and get me out, erasing me from their database every time. I was in the centers for petty things like sticky fingers or chips or something at gas stations or “assaulting a police officer and resisting arrest” when I wasn't getting arrested but being harassed so I punched the officer in the face. I was a badass 14 year old if I do say so myself.

The agent at the center gave us a lead as to where Claire might’ve been. She was close to a guy named Dustin Tate and to sweeten the pot, she told us where he worked. We regrouped with Cas and Dean to head over to find the kid who most likely wasn’t going to give Claire up willingly.

It was night by the time we got to were Dustin should’ve been. Sam and Cas stood outside of the Wiener Hut and waited for Dustin to come by. A kid in the employee uniform came up and the conversation started between the three. Dean and I walked out of the Wiener Hut after getting Dean a hot dog and it seemed like it was just in time for the show.

Dustin’s back was against the wall when we approached them and instead of intervening like someone usually would, we stood there as Cas gripped Dustin's neck and lifted him off the ground. “I’d do what he says,” Dean said nodding at Cas as he chewed the food in his mouth. Sam gave him a look and Dean just gave him a quick smile and thumbs up.

I felt myself studying the interaction between Dustin and Cas too harshly and felt like I was being choked same as Dustin. As Dustin gasped and choked, I held my breath and no longer felt Dean’s hand in mine. I turned away from the scene and regulated my breathing. “You guys got this. I think I’m just gonna go back to the car.” I didn't wait for a response before rounding the Weiner Hut building and reaching the Impala in the alleyway behind the building strip.

I leaned over the hood of the Impala and closed my eyes. “I’m okay,” I repeated under my breath and counting my breaths. The more I slowed down, the more I felt like I could breathe and get back to normal. I sighed and stood up straight, turning and leaning on the car. Seconds later, Sam and Dean approached the car.

“Hey, Britt, you okay?” Dean asked as they got closer. I put my hands in my jacket pockets and shrugged. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good. Did the kid talk?” The two looked at each other obviously unconvinced of my supposed well being. I looked at the two, awaiting an answer and they just leaned on the hood. Dean to my left and Sam following after.

Dean put his hands in his front jean pockets. “Cas should be walking out that door right about now with little miss trouble.” I sighed and scratched the inside of my jacket pocket, waiting for something to happen.

Almost like clockwork, one of the back doors opened and figure took off the black hood on their hair, revealing a blonde teen girl. She started to walk away and Cas followed right behind her, calling for her to wait. The three of us got off the hood and tried to calm girl, sho I assumed was Claire. She definitely had her dad’s eyes, the clearest oceans blue there was, and her face shape was like Jimmy’s too, strong yet fragile.

“Screw you.” She scoffed at Cas as she tried to walk away. Dean stepped up, “Whoa, hey, Miley Cyrus. Settle.” She turned to look at us and looked Dean straight in the eye with the same angered and annoyed look she gave Cas. “Eat me, Hasselhoff.” She spat and the three of us were taken aback and somewhere in me, I knew I was just like her as a teen. A pain in the ass.

It was Sam’s turn to try and calm her down. “Claire, hold on a second. Look, my name’s-” She cut him off. “Sam. And you’re Dean. We’ve met, remember?” The brothers looked at each other and then her eyes landed on me. “And who are you supposed to be?”

Before I could answer, Cas interjected. “Claire. You were going to rob that convenience store?” She turned her attention to him. “So?”

“So?” So… it’s- it’s wrong!” Cas tried. There was no way he was serious with trying to reach out to her all of a sudden. Especially at her age, whatever age that was. What she said next kind of took a shocking toll on us all. “You want to talk to me about wrong? You killed my dad. Is that “wrong” enough for you?”

“No, I didn’t,” Cas said defensively. “Really? Because without you, he’d still be here. And my mom would still be around.” her eyes glistened even in the darkness of the alley and it was easy to tell she wanted to crash and cry. I would’ve, too. If I didn't know my dad was an abusive, electroshock, bitch, and I still loved him and he was possessed by an angel who promised to watch out for me but didn't, I'd be acting just like Claire.

Cas tried to apologize but when he took a step towards her, she pulled a gun from her pocket, cocked it and pointed it at him with a warning. I don't think I had ever seen Cas look so sad and desperate in my life. It was heartbreaking. Cas never looked at the gun, he only kept his eyes on her. “...That won’t hurt me... “ he said softly.

She kept the gun up but showed more of her anger. “Fine,” she said, then turning the gun towards Sam and Dean. They took a step back and held their hands up in surrender.

“Whoa! Hey, come on.” Dean started. “Hold on a second,” Sam added. “Claire-” I tried, taking a step forward, but she cut me off, focusing on the brothers. “Why? Like you don’t have it coming? You stood there while this monster took my dad.” She put the gun down, then turned to Cas. “I used to pray to you, Castiel. Every night. I would beg you to bring him home safe.” Her tone had gone soft and I didn't know it was possible, but Cas’ expression got sadder.

“I know.” He said. She continued, “You know… My father was a good man. In what messed up world does he have to die and you get to live?”

Cas apologized and Claire reverted back to her strong-mindedness. “No. You feel guilty. There’s a difference.” She sassed. “So what? Now you run back to Randy? The guy you steal for?” Sam asked, she turned around, trying to look anywhere but at him. “How do you know about that?” She asked defenselessly. “Dustin,” Dean answered plainly.

“Claire, that man is using you.” Cas tried. Claire looked like she wanted to rip his face off. “He was there for me. When things got bad- and they got real damn bad- he was there when no one else was. He’s my family. And you’re just… you can go to hell.” She said before walking away and I felt myself going after her.

She kept walking but her pace changed when I caught up and I didn't completely feel her coldness radiate onto me. “What do you want?” She scoffed. “I just- I know what you’re going through and I don't mean teenage years crap, I mean being in and out of the system and feeling like the world is against you.” She slowed her pace a hint more and rolled her eyes. “So what? Are you trying to sit me down for a therapy session?” She sassed. Despite her attitude, she was all ears, as I hoped she would.

“No, Claire, I just want to talk. Your problem is with Cas, Sam, and Dean, not me. Please.” She stopped walking after we were away from eyesight of the boys and looked at me. “Fine.”

We took a turn into a park and sat on one of the benches. She was quiet and definitely had her guard up as we sat there. I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment to think of what to say and when I could find the words, I started talking. “What are you doing, Claire?” I asked sincerely.

She looked at her hands. “I don't know anymore…” I looked straight ahead and watched the lamp on the far side flicker. “I thought Cas was better than this,” I saw her head turn to look at me and I knew I was getting somewhere with her. “All of a sudden trying to be in your life and all.” There was silence on her end for a moment and just like that, she was in the palm of my hand.

“He just doesn’t understand. My life was hell after he came into it. My mom went off the rails with drugs, I had to live with grandma, then she died, and Randy took me in not too long after that. All I wanted was for my dad to come back and the fact that he- that Castiel is still in him and  is trying to be my dad like all of a sudden is cruel.” I looked at her and before I could see one of her tears drop, she wiped it away. She looked at me and has a faint smile. “So what’s your deal?”

“Well, I never knew my mom. I lived with my abusive dickhead dad who electroshocked the memory of his beatings out of me. I was sent to the centers when I’d take food from stores or some other things and he’d beat the crap out of me after that too and when he died, I blamed myself for it. Well mainly because I was the one who did it-” she looked at me in shock and I laughed a little. “He was possessed by a demon and I didn't know how to kill one yet”

She reverted back to listening and I told her about Bobby and the curses and Bobby dying, anything that would make my situations seem worse by comparison. When I finished she reverted to her faint smile. “Wow, you might actually have it worse than me.” she chuckled. I laughed with her and felt some weight lift off of my shoulders. “Yeah. Anyways, they’re good people who do crappy things sometimes, but Randy, I get that you feel like he’s your family, but family don't use each other.” She clenched her jaw a little and put her hands in her pocket. She stood up from the bench and looked around, “Look, I should… um, I should probably head out.”

“Claire-” She cut me off. “No, yeah, I know. But- I just have to go.” She walked off and I just watched her go. I pulled out my phone and saw a single text from Dean. These idiots were at a bar.

I walked through the darkness of the night and made it to the Hawaiian themed restaurant in a few minutes. The three were seated on the stools and talking amongst themselves in front of the liquor at the bar towards the back. I walked up to them in the middle of their conversation.

“Do you think Claire is in trouble,” Cas asked worriedly to the brothers. “She’s hanging out with a guy named Randy. She’s in trouble.” Dean said, motioning to the bartender for refills. “Add another to that,” I said as I sat down on the stool beside Dean.

The three looked over at me, expressions asking what the hell happened. “After this drink, we need to go. I’ve got a bad feeling, ” The bartender came over and placed the 4 whiskeys down and I took it as if it were a shot.

 

Less than an hour later, were at Randy’s doorstep. Cas knocked and some white, bald, 90s looking gangster opened the front door. Cas lifted a hand, and the man went flying backwards. A guy in a chair and another looked at us as we walked inside. Another man went towards Cas and stopped when I cocked a gun at him.

“Take another step and your brain will be all over these walls.” The man held his hands up in surrender. Sam and Dean also held their guns at the other men in the room, making sure no one moved. Cas looked around the room. “Where’s the girl?”

As soon as he asked, a scream came from upstairs and Cas ran up while we stayed, keeping the men in their place. After a few clashed were heard, Cas and Claire came down. Claire stood next to me, “Randy,” she said helplessly. The man in the chair looked at her, then stared at the floor with guilt on his face. He was a white guy in his mid to late 40s and had the hipster glasses like the teenagers wore, a kind looking person if you didn't know him.

“Get her out of here.” Dean ordered. Cas grabbed Claire and lead her out, Sam after him and I lowered my gun, following after. I watched Cas climb in after Claire and Sam sat in the front seat, I stood outside, standing next to Sams open door. I was about to say something to Sam but I heard shouting and things breaking. Sam heard it too and it was as if everything moved in slow motion as we ran towards the house as fast as we could.

In the house, Dean was kneeling in the living room with a bloody knife in his hand. Four men, along with Randy, surrounded Dean, their bodies sliced and bloody. Claire screamed beside me, and Dean finally looked up at us. Sam put his gun away and he walked to Dean.

“Dean? Dean. Hey.” Sam hits his knees to the floor in front of Dean, then took his brother’s blood-splattered face in his hands. “Tell me you had to do this,” Sam said roughly, not wanting to believe his brother's carnage was done on purpose like the Mark would’ve let him. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to.” Dean said sadly.

Sam roared, “No. Tell me it was them or you!” I looked around with a horrified feeling as I looked at the blood and bodies around Dean. Furniture was broken, blood was on the walls and floors but the majority was on him and it made my heart stop momentarily. I placed a hand on Cas shoulder as he held Claire in his chest and told him to wait in the car. He looked at me sadly before leaving. Sam's hands fell from Dean's face and Dean looked like he was starting to realize what he had done.


	40. Dead Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of murder, implied smut, language, idiocy, mentions of mental illness, violence, sadness.   
> Ep: 10x10

No one talked about it but we all knew that what happened was a line that should have never been crossed. And Dean knew it, too. Even as we laid in bed wide awake most nights, I don't think either of us found it within ourselves to say anything.

I distracted myself with other things like my car, or the record player I recently started to use again, and even wait for Cas to come back. He had been gone for the past few days after the incident, taking care of Claire, and I couldn’t wait to hear about it. He was pacing in the library as Sam and I sat there, listening to his rant of the teenager he barely knew.

“She barely speaks to me. She’s like a wounded animal, just watching me.” I held a smile at Cas’ concern as he paced back and forth. Sam shifted in his seat to talk to Cas directly. “Look, Cas, you know what? You really tried to do the right thing that night. You did. This guy Claire was hanging out with, Randy, all he did was use her.”

Cas sighed softly and stopped his pacing. “Well, she thought he was kind. And for that, she loved him. Shows how little kindness there was in her life. You know, whatever Randy did, he didn’t deserve-” Sam cut him off, “No, yeah, I know, I know. I hear you. Dean has had to kill before. We both have. But that was-”

“That was what?” Sam rose out of his seat and I slid off the table from the sudden voice. “Dean.” I said surprised as he came in from the war room. He looked between the three of us. “That was a massacre. That’s what it was.

There was a time I was a hunter, not a stone-cold killer?” We all looked anywhere but each other as Dean continued. “You can say it. You’re not wrong. I crossed the line. Guys, this thing’s gotta go.” He looked down at the mark on his arm with distaste and I bit the inside of my cheek.

“That won’t be easy.” Cas said and Dean grew angry, “Well, then burn it off! Cut it off.” Cas stepped up to him, “It is more than just a physical thing. It will take a very powerful force to remove the effect.” I sighed, “Dean, we’ve gone through every piece of lore we could find. I’ve stayed up for days on end searching, but there’s nothing.”

“This reaches back to the time of creation. It may pre-date the lore. If we had the demon tablet, maybe.” Cas said with slight hope. We all turned to look at him. “But you said it was missing.” Sam tilted his head. I held myself and waited for Cas’ answer.

He flatlined his lips. “It is.” I kept my eyes trained on him and he looked reluctant to continue. “There may be another way.”

 

+++

In devising his plan, Cas took Sam to go with him and I was left with a quiet Dean in the Bunker. He was sitting in the kitchen staring at his mug of coffee when I walked in. I sat down in front of him and placed my finger under his chin to lift his head out of his gaze. “Hey,” I said with a soft smile. His eyes were tired and the redness underneath meant he was taking himself harshly about what happened.

Dean didn’t really look at me until I called his name and it was only then that his saddened look made my heart break as his pupils looked into my own. “Dean-”

“Don’t. Don't tell me it wasn’t me.” I dropped my hand from his scruffed up chin and folded my hands on the table. “I’m not.” His expression shifted, obviously taken aback. “What?” He asked, expecting more.

“I’m not gonna tell you it wasn’t you because it was…” He stayed quiet and I watched him not know what to with himself. I dragged my hands off the table onto my lap. “Come, ” I urged and instead of putting up a fight like I thought, he got up and rounded the table, waiting for me. As we roamed the halls, Dean’s hand finally found its way into mine and I smiled to myself. Even though we just went to the garage, it felt like the longest walk.

I popped open the hood of my car and Dean looked between me and the car. “Are you sure? I thought you didn't want my help fixing her.” I grabbed a few mats and placed it on the sides of the hood, knowing I didn't want greasy fingerprints on my car. “Well, we can either do this or talk or-”

“Nope, no. Just no.” Dean turned around and grabbed a box, walking over with a faint smile. I laughed a little and he stood next to me under the hood. I bent to point to where I thought a new sound was coming from in addition to the air conditioning not working and Dean bent to get a better look. I figured if we were going to kill time on the car, we might as well have fixed it all.

 

+++

Working on the car turned into something a little... less mechanic and luckily, when Sam and Cas came back, we made everything look just the way it did before they left. Unfortunately, after they got back, the plan was ready to be executed and all fun was thrown out the window.

Sam, Dean and I stood in the dungeon facing the man that held all the answers. The real question was whether he would help us out and talk or not, but I was sure we wouldn’t take no for an answer. When I first came in, Sam ripped the black sack off of the man’s head and I groaned from dissatisfaction and hatred. The man who brainwashed me to nuke the angels, killed Dean, and not to mention, has screwed us over more times than humanly possible, was sitting right in front of us with a smug little smile. Metatron looked between the two of us, being that Dean wasn’t in the room yet, and kept his old green eyes on me.

Metatron and Sam sassed each other back and forth for a bit and Metatron only gave me a smug look as if he knew exactly how he would get to me but in those chains, the only one who was going to be tortured was him. After Dean walked in, Metatron got all quiet and once he got comfortable, he didn't stop.

“Ain’t life a bitch. Nebbishy little guy- me- always sticking it to the lunkhead jocks and the annoying cheerleader.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest, tired of hearing his voice. “You know what, screw the Mark. Let’s just kill him.” Dean clenched his jaw. Instead of being intimidated as one usually would be, Metatron looked over at Sam who was sitting on the table corner positioned between where Dean and I stood. “Boy, he really is a mess.”

Metatron continued, “Who knew the Mark was so toxic? Well, actually, I did.” He smiled as he panned over the three of us. He stopped at the far left, straight at Dean. “You know it is going to own you sooner than later.”

“Why else do you think you’re here, Asshat?” Metatron looked at me, ready to say something snarky but Sam cut him off. “How do we get rid of it?” Metatron slacked his jaw in a shocked look as he panned over to Sam. “What, just like that, social hour’s over?”

Sam sighed sarcastically, “Yes, and now we’re moving on to our keynote speaker.” He gestured to Metatron. “Which is you. With us asking the questions. And me taking the personal pleasure of carving the answers out of you.” Dean said darkly as he advanced towards Metatron and bent to emphasise “carving the answers”. Metatron had a slow and smiley tone. “Now, just- whoa, whoa. Hold on there, badass! Lighten up!” Dean slowly stood up straight and we all listened in as the crazed angel continued.

“Why do you just assume I’m not gonna be helpful?” Metatron asked childishly, playing with his hands. “Because you’re a dickwad,” Sam answered simply. Metatron looked straight ahead at the younger brother. “But I’m your dickwad. I have a special place in my non-heart for you both, no offense, Britt,” He said off to the side to me. I scoffed, “Dick.”

He flashed his famous smuggish smile at me before continuing. “To which end- ta-daa! I’d be tickled to help you pop this biblical zit. To do it, you are gonna need one specific thing. Your old bud– the First Blade.” I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. Sam stood up from his seat on the table, “What?”

Metatron’s laugh grew loudly and obnoxiously. “As I said: ain’t life a bitch.” The three of us looked at each other and I nodded towards the door, both following me out.

“No, not happening.” I started as we all walked down the hall towards the library. “I agree, this is the single worst idea I’ve ever heard. You just whacked a whole house full of people, and that’s when the Blade was nowhere around. And now you wanna be in actual contact with it?” Sam added. I looked at him, taken aback by his harsh honesty, “Sam.”

Dean took over, not paying further mind than needed to Sam. “ We don’t know that I have to be in contact with it. All we know is that we need it.” We turned a corner and Sam started barking in Dean’s ear again. “No no, all we know is he says we need it. We don’t even know what he wants us to do with it.”

“A step at a time, all right. We play it safe, we learn whatever the spell is, how it works and we keep the Blade out of my hands.” Dean took out his phone. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Both weren’t wrong, we couldn’t afford to have the Blade anywhere near Dean but we also couldn’t afford to miss the opportunity to get the mark off of him and unfortunately it’s what Metatron said we needed.

“Are you sure this isn’t the Mark making you want the damn thing? I mean, why would we trust anything Metatron says?” Sam dug, “I don’t trust Metatron.” Dean squinted his eyes back at his brother at his accusation. Sam stopped walking for a moment, cutting himself off. He ran a hand through his hair. “Then what?!”

“Sam, none of us trust him, okay? The guys a dick whose expiration date changes every time we meet him but Dean, this just all seems too risky.” Dean looked briefly at me before looking back at his phone and Sam finally followed along. “What’s his game if he is lying, okay? The Blade without me is useless. The Blade with me is trouble for him.” Dean put his phone to his ear.

Sam and Dean kept talking as he waited for the call to pick up. “What does he want?” Sam asked. “I don’t know. But if we weren’t willing to take a shot, then what was the point of bringing him here? Unless you got a better idea.”

Dean was on the phone with Crowley and he agreed to meet with them to get the Blade back. The downside for me was that I had to stay and babysit. I tried to fight it, to make Sam stay instead but he insisted that he needed to make sure Dean didn't get in contact with the Blade and that I would give in and let him hold it. I even brought up what happened the last time I was in the presence of the angelic pain in my ass, but Sam wouldn’t bite. Dean was torn but used the “let me look between my brother and girlfriend, make it seem like I’m making a decision, look at her sadly as a way of saying, “sorry, but he’s right” and hope she’ll just leave it as that” card and left with Sam. I had wished Sam still had his arm sling, but that was no longer needed after Dean was human again.

I went to my room and was going to listen to music but Metatrons long and loud calls of my name in sing-song was annoying enough to hear in the back of my head that I needed to make it stop. My name being sung got louder the closer to the dungeon I got and when I approached the door I had to calm myself before wanting to kill the man inside.

“Britt, I know you’re there. I’m bored. Lets chat, catch up a bit.” I could hear the smile in his voice towards the end and decided to go in. What more harm could he do?

He sat with his legs crossed and a look on his face as if he knew I was going to come in. I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want?” I asked, annoyed. “Nothing much. Just a chat.” He folded his hands together and pursed his lips. I rolled my eyes and turned away to leave but he took that as a sign to keep talking.

“How have you been… functioning since we last saw each other?” I turned around with a raised eyebrow at his careful wording. “Fine. What’s it to you?” He looked me over and shrugged his shoulders. “Just trying to hold a conversation.”

“Okay well, I’m leaving.” I turned around to walk away, completely annoyed by his existence and once again, he didn't take that as a sign to shut up. “You still seeing crazy?” He asked, smile in his voice. I didn't turn around that time, but I didn't move to continue walking out either. “You couldn’t possibly think I’d let you off that easy when we last met?” I turned around, feeling my blood boil.

The angel wore his smug smile proudly as I walked over, punching him square in the jaw. He groaned and spit out the blood that accumulated in his mouth. “I could’ve done much worse but I didn't. You’re welcome.” He smiled with blood in his teeth. I breathed heavily from the sudden burst of energy and felt like I wanted to beat the living crap out of him from the sudden revelation.

“I should’ve known.” I clenched my fist and advanced for another hit and he put his cuffed hands up in surrender. “Whoa, hold on just a second. Don't you want to know how to get rid of it?” I loosened my firmness and clenched my jaw. “I’m listening…”

 

+++

Hours later, I was seated at the map table in the War room reading though books when the metal entrance door opened and shut. I looked up, watching Sam and Dean descend the stairs as I scanned to see if the Blade was anywhere on their person.

“Got the Blade?” I asked after not seeing it anywhere. “Crowley agreed to get it,” Sam said as they made it to my level. “Anything happen?” Dean asked, kissing me on the forehead as he rounded the table. “Not much. I mean, Metatrons a little roughed up…” I held up my hand, showing the backside to reveal the redness and bruises. Sam and Dean’s eyes widened in alert, ready to dead run to the dungeon, Sam even paused as he was taking his jacket off.

“What? Why?” he asked, resuming to peel the jacket off, slower as they awaited my answer.

“Oh, I don’t know, besides the fact that he’s a celestial a-hole?” The brothers sighed, ready to tell me I couldn’t do things like that but I laid back in my seat and closed the book in my hand. “He’s the reason my head is…” I gestured an explosion as I confessed disappointedly. Truth be told after Metatron tried to feed me BS on curing myself, he also wanted me to free him so he could “help” and because I didn’t let him out, he dug himself under my skin. The more he talked, the harder I hit.

The brothers looked at each other and leaned in towards me. “What?” Dean asked, needing simple clarification. I sighed and stood up, “When I was brainwashed with riddles, Metatron knew it would be too easy to solve so he added a little extra to spice his fanfictions up and basically, in short, gave me PTSD.”

“Sonuvabitch.” Dean said under his breath. Sam looked around and despite my reasoning, was still going to give me the talk about out abusing the unpleasant guests. “Britt-”

“Britt nothing, Sam. This d-wad killed Dean and come to find out he’s the walking garbage bag whos been making me see myself, Dean, and you, and everyone else die over and over again!” I ran an hand through my hair and calmed down for a second. “I’m not walking in that room again so you can get the thought of me beating him anymore out of your head.” I grabbed the books off the table and walked into the library to put them away. Sam sighed softly and I walked back to regroup.

“Alright, take a breather. I’ll call Cas to catch him up and you two just- don't kill each other.” Dean planned before looking over at me. I squinted at him in distaste. He mirrored my expression, “What? Poor choice of words?” I didn't have to answer. “You know what I mean.”

Sam and I looked at each other as Dean walked away and we grabbed books and files on the Mark of Cain even though there couldn’t really have been any more to look through. Sam grabbed his computer to go through the digital archives, probably to Ctrl + F the whole thing, while Dean and I went through it manually. They didn’t come back with the Blade, only consulted with the demon who would need to get it.

Not too much time went by after Dean made the call, that the Bunker door closed loudly and Cas came in.

“The First Blade is back in play and Crowley is the one getting it?” Cas asked from over the balcony. Sam and I looked up, not really sure how to put it in words, but it didn't matter because Cas kept going. “I don’t mean to be an alarmist, but you-” Dean walking in from the library cut him off. “Yeah well, you know us. When we screw ourselves we like to go the whole hog.” Dean sat down in his seat with a beer in hand and Cas started to descend the staircase, returning to his banter. “This would be the Crowley who let the Blade turn Dean into a demon?”

I sighed and was going to agree but kept it to myself. I closed the lore book I had, leaving a ring in the place I was at as the conversation continued. “I don’t have a choice, ’kay? I don’t do this, I’m down the rabbit hole. Hear evil, see evil, do evil. The trifecta.” Dean recalled using his fingers to emphasize the trifecta. Cas was standing beside my seat on the side of the table and Sam closed his laptop.

“Cas, look. Let us worry about this. You’ve got enough on your plate with Claire.” Sam pushed. “Claire is gone,” Cas replied. My head shot up from mindlessly playing with one of the rubber rings, as did Deans from a file. “What? Where?” I rushed, concerned.

Cas seemed awfully calm as he continued. “I don’t know, I- I should have stopped her. But I am certain that she is destined for more trouble and disappointment. She is so… so full of rage.” I looked over at Dean who looked guilty for Claire’s anger. “Listen, man, if I could make it better I would.”

“It’s actually why I’m here. I was hoping you might reach out to her.” Cas said with faint hope in his scruffy voice. I looked between the two with confusion and for a split second, Dean and I had the same look. “Me?” Dean asked. “Yes.”

“Seriously, I’m probably the last person she would wanna hear from,” Dean said, common sense flowing out of him. “I thought there would be a connection. One extremely messed up human to another, you could explain why you murdered her only friend.” Cas said, ignorance shining through.

“Oh, well, yeah, when you put it like that.” Dumbfoundedness in Dean’s voice. “All I know…” Cas sat down next to me and opposite Dean as he spoke. “…is she won’t talk to me. I thought if she understood the kind of man Randy was and the danger she was in, she might…” Cas lost his words in trying to explain one of the few things he didn't know the outcome to.

Dean looked at me as it was quiet and I nodded, urging him to go. “What the hell, why not? Long shots seem to be the theme around here. I’m gonna go make a sandwich.” Dean got up and took his beer with him. “I’ll, uh- I’ll text you her number,” Cas said, pulling out his phone.

“Okay,” Dean said, looking wearily at the angel. “I like texting. Emoticons?” Cas continued and Dean turned for a brief second before leaving the room. I looked back at Sam who was also watching the awkward moment unfold and both of us had a face that could only be described as “why are we like this?” expressions.

Sam opened his laptop and I found the ring I placed in the book. “He seems calm. Considering the effects of the Mark. Metatron in proximity.” Cas said, turning in the chair. Sam looked up from the computer. “Too calm. I think he’s worried about what’ll happen if he pops the cork.” I smiled softly at Cas, “We’re gonna be fine. We always are.”

Research sucked especially having to go through all the information that we had already gone through. Cas got up to roam the Bunker and I constantly went back and forth to the library to put files back in their boxes and book back on their shelves as Sam sat in place. Things were getting exhausting, especially for Sam who had to stare at that screen, but we needed all we had on the Mark of Cain.   
  
Cas scared us from behind on accident, mostly because Sam and I were just tired and Cas said he was heading out to drive around to see if he’ll find Claire despite the lateness of the night. We followed Cas to escort him out but after turning into the hall, Sam was no longer near us.

“Wait, guys?” We turned around and walked to Sam who was stopped at the kitchen doorway. “Where’s Dean?” he continued. We three exchanged looks and took off down the corridor to the dungeon. Sam, with those long moose legs (now I know why Crowley calls him Moose), got to the door first and tried to open it but it was locked. He pounded on the door and called for his brother. He knocked, banged, pounded against the door and neither Dean would open or Sam break-in.

Knocking. “Dean!”

More knocking. “Dean, open the door.”

Pounding. “Hey, open the door!”

Bodyslam, after bodyslam and trying to kick the door down, Metatron started to yell in pain and for the first time ever in concern for his well being, well, I was concerned for Metatron. Sam kicked the door again to no avail and Cas shoved him out of the way, telling him to move after hearing Metatrons cry. Cas raised his arm, palm at the door and Cas’ eyes started to glow as he used his powers to shatter the dungeon door.

He looked winded once it opened and Sam rushed inside where I looked up to see Dean holding an angel blade against Metatron’s chest. “No, Dean! Hey, stop, stop.” Sam grabbed Dean and pulled him away. Cas rushed in, despite the minor breather and checked on Metatron.

Dean was pulled to the shelved file area of the dungeon, the area posed as the real room hiding the dungeon and I followed. “You were killing him.” Sam drilled. Dean’s back was on the shelves but he bent over slightly to catch his breath from the high of the Mark.

“I have to take him back,” Cas said and Sam pressed Deans shoulder into the shelf, making sure he didn't move to kill Metatron. Sam pointed, “Cas, this won’t happen again.” He assured. Cas spoke through his teeth, upset with the outcome, “I gave my word. I have fences to mend in Heaven, and as it is, I have a lot to explain.” Metatron's blood cheek, nose, and lips were hard to look at as he spoke.

“If you ever ask me for help again, I will choose death.” I closed my eyes, holding in my anger from needing yet another way to remove the Mark. Metatron kept going even as Cas was dragging him out. “You realize it’s going to get worse, Dean. You’re gonna get worse!” He yelled.

Sam followed Cas and I stayed with Dean for the few minutes he was gone. We migrated to the library and he sat in silence with his head down at the table and hands folded against his forehead. Before Sam came back he was mouthing something to himself.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” I asked. He kept his same position, “Just a second.”

“Hey,” Sam said, making me turn around to see him. “You okay?” He directed at Dean. Dean looked to the side, deep in thought. “He said the river ends at the source.” He admitted confusingly. “What does that mean?” Sam asked, passing he and I a bottle of beer.

“Maybe nothing. It was the last thing he said before you guys busted in.” Sam sat next to him in the chair next to him while I was seated at the end. Sam sighed, “Dean. Look, man, we had to…”

Dean cut him off, “Hey, no. I get it, all right. I- I was gonna kill him. And I couldn’t stop myself.” I put my hand over Deans, caressing it mindlessly. He looked back at me and I smiled faintly, “We’ll figure it out.”

Sam played with his bottle and was looking like he was in though. “Sam?” I called, he looked up and between me and his brother before talking. “You know what Cas said about needing a powerful force?” He started.

“Yeah, so?” Dean fed, listening in “So, I’ve been thinking. Look. Cain still has the Mark, right?” Dean nodded. “And he’s lived with it. For years, he’s lived with it. So yeah, the Mark is strong, but- Dean, maybe there’s a part of you that wants to give in to it. And maybe you have to fight that, you know? Maybe… part of that powerful force has to be you.”

As if the universe didn't like their brotherly moments anymore, Dean phone started to ring its rock music. He took it out with his free hand and picked it up. I looked at Sam and gave him a faint smile, knowing he was trying, we all were, this was just something that might’ve been too much to handle.

Once Dean hung up he let us know it was Claire who wanted to meet up and headed to bed to get a few hours of sleep, if any, before he left. Sam and I stayed up and relapsed on everything. “So, Metatron.” Sam started. “Yep, Metatron.” I sighed, completely done with it all for the moment. Sam looked over at me, almost as if he was careful in his word choice. “Britt,” I looked up, giving him my full attention.

“Do you really see us dying over and over again?” He asked softly. “No, I thought it would give more of a valid reason to beat the angelic nerd.” I joked sarcastically. Sam laughed to himself for a second before shifting. “I’m serious. I thought it was triggered and in the moment, like the graveyard with the hellhound, not…”

“Not vividly getting killed and witnessing my friends murders?” I asked staring at the table with all beings of sarcasm gone and instead, a hint of disbelief in my voice. Sam looked at me sadly. “Don't- don't do that.” I said, gesturing to his face. “Do what?” He asked, sadness and puppiness still there.

“That- that feeling sorry for me look.” He tried to shift expressions but they were all the same. “But I do, Britt. You shouldn’t have to go through that.” He blurted before I could either change the subject, change the tone, or leave. “Well don't. We know it can be angelically reversed, at least that’s what Cas said, and we just need him to get the rest of his grace back. I’m not worrying about it and neither should you.” He sighed, watching me take a stress-filled swing of my drink.

He scratched his head before stretching in his seat. “I’m gonna head to bed. You should, too. It’s been a long day.” He stood up and took my empty bottle as he passed by. “Goodnight,” He said softly. “Goodnight,” I responded as he walked to the kitchen and headed to his room.

I stayed up for as long as I could that night. I grabbed all of the archived files that interested me most, and on my way back to the table from the back shelf, Sam walked in. “Hey, Sam. I was just-” I stammered but a voice behind me made me stop, tears building up.

“Dean will be fine,” Sam said, walking past me. I followed his body and was shocked to see Kevin’s head in Sam’s hand. Kevin began to scream and a white light flooded out of his eyes. Like the first time this happened, I rushed forward to stop Sam, who I didn't know was possessed by Gadreel, and passed right through him, putting me in the spot I was when the whole thing went down. Dean charged at Sam and he pinned only Dean against the wall with his magic. I could only watch, like before and this time felt worse.

Kevin’s body flopped onto the floor with smoke leaving his burnt out eyes and like before, the tears were falling faster than they were building and Sam and Dean faded away, leaving Kevin and me alone. I stepped slowly and crouched down near Kevin’s body, wanting to hold him and tell him he’s okay like I did the first time but before I could reach for him, he faded away. I eventually sat on the floor with my back against a bookshelf, sobbing. 


	41. Split

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Minor language, fluff, PTSD, death, probably some others.   
> Ep: 10x11

“I don't want to die!” A little girl named Marlee cried as I held her. A ghost who took kids who were in the class of the teacher who murdered her was the monster I was hunting the night that Bobby took me in. “I won’t let you die, Marlee. I promise. ” A cry of the ghost sounded in the hallway of the room we were in and I left Marlee in the salt circle we were sitting in. In the hall, I shot my shotgun of salt rounds at the ghost and she disappeared. Temporarily, of course.

I went back into the room and took Marlee by the hand, trying to get her out of the house. We ran to the front door and once I was out of the door, I jumped forward, my hand still held inside. I looked back and the ghost was holding Marlee who was holding onto me with all her might. Before I was able to reload my shotgun one handed and shoot, the ghost ripped Marlee out of my hold and pull her into the house.

The front door slammed shut and wasn’t coming down even after heavy kicks. Marlee’s scream made a burst of already pumped up energy skyrocket through me and I kicked the door down. The ghost was nowhere to be seen and all that was left was Marlee’s body laid in the center of the room. Her pale skin was covered in blood streaks from her eyes and top of her blonde hair. The blood blended in with the dress on her small 8-year-old frame.

I fell to my knees and held the child in my arms. Not only was I sad, I was disappointed with my inability to keep my promise for the child that had her whole life ahead of her. It hurt and I showed it.

Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I woke up with a jump. “Whoa, Britt. It’s me. It’s me.” Sam was looking me over and seeing if I was hurt and I looked around to see where I was in alarm. _The library table passed out on a book I don't remember grabbing._

“What time is it?” I asked trying to push the tears off my cheeks.

“Early enough,” Sam said, moving my hair to the side to see if I was bitten by something. “I- saw something.” Sam stopped, letting my hair drop. He looked around us in alarm. “Where? In the Bunker?” He moved to leave and I grabbed his arm. “No, Sam. I saw something.” He looked back at me and repositioned himself to where he stood originally. Emotions played on his face, unsure of how to address it.

“...Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly. I blinked, shaking the image out of my head of his eyes filled with grace. “No,” I said simply, getting up from my seat. “Did you already eat? Are you hungry? Want breakfast? I’m gonna make some breakfast.” I rambled as I walked further from Sam and out of the library.

In the kitchen, I leaned on the table for support as I took a breath from the memory in my nightmare. I felt even worse that Sam found me like that and I didn't know what to do. If I stayed awake, I’d see horrors, if I fell asleep, there was an almost guarantee I’d have nightmares. Something had to be done about Metatron's enchantment.

I stood up straight and turned around to start making something to eat but Dean’s body in the door frame with black eyes and blood spattered on his clothes made me jump and put my hands on my knees, shutting my eyes. “Dammit, Metatron!” I yelled, almost on the brink of tears.

Hands on my back and shoulder made me jump for the third time today and Dean, my Dean, was there, worried. “Hey, hey. Britt.” He rushed. I stood up straight, pushing my hair out of my face and behind my ears.

“I- I thought you-” I gestured to my eyes and after trying to get the words out, his face slowly morphed. His eyebrows creased and he bit the inside of his cheek. I started to walk around, unsure what to do. “Are you- are you hungry? You’re hungry. I’m making food. Unless you want take out. I can get take out. What do you want? Actually, nevermind I already know what-”

“Britt,” Dean said, cutting off my rambling. He held my shoulders in his hands, stopping my movements. I felt like melting in his hands. I couldn’t go on seeing the world as I did, it wasn't an exact PTSD but whatever Metatron did, it sure as hell was doing a great job of spicing things up around here.

Dean sunk his green eyes into mine and my words caught in my throat. He looked even more concerned after scanning my face. “What time did you go to bed last night?”

“I passed out in the library trying to keep myself awake.” I didn't need to explain the need to stay awake. Seeing Kevin took a pretty bad toll on me a few nights ago and I didn't want it to happen again. But as usual, the odds weren't in my favor when it came to a lot of things which is what lead my dreams to be corrupted by a memory I hadn’t thought about in years.

Dean’s eyes held so many questions and so much concern that it was heart-wrenching. He and his brother had mastered the puppy look and it was a curse for anyone in their wake. Dean brushed my hair behind my ears and I needed to act fast before any other images popped up.

I stepped on the balls of my feet and pressed my lips to his soft ones. He was stiff at first, unsure if he should pull away and address me but once he fought against it, he melted at my touch. His fingers tangled around my pant loops and held my body closer to his. His hands then drifted to my hips, sliding under the hem of my shirt and caressing my skin with his thumbs. It settled there and pulled me closer. I inhaled sharply.

He lifted my thighs into his hands and I was soon sitting on the metal table towards the back of the kitchen and holding his jaw in my hands as his roamed. His breathing quickened as did my own. He gripped my hair, turning my head to the side and he began nuzzling his lips onto neck with delicate kisses. So faint, yet hungry.

He pulled away and almost questioned the reason for the suddenness of my actions as if it just struck him but I just grabbed his shirt and tugged him towards me, not wanting to explain myself. Our breaths mingled as our lips parted and connected repeatedly. My heart fluttered in my chest and I was glad that nothing was ruining the moment. Maybe it was nice on Deans end too considering the tension of the mark as of late and suddenly what I was glad about was no longer true. I tasted an unfamiliarity on Dean’s lips and realized it was the same unfamiliarity I felt when demon Dean kissed me. I tried to push the feeling away as I had tried to do with everything else but it was something I couldn’t hide.

Dean pulled away again, noticing the sudden change. I closed my eyes and looked down, trying to force the feeling down even as it crawled. And scratched. And clawed at me. I felt Dean’s lips on my forehead briefly and he sighed as he pulled them off.

“I’m sorry.” I pleaded as I slid off the table and walked out of the kitchen. Let me make breakfast. Go relax.” He urged. I looked him in the eyes and kissed him, slowly this time, and slid off of the table.

I walked over to my room and grabbed a towel to hit the showers. Usually, I would let someone know so they wouldn’t barge in but I was already on my way nor did I feel like facing either one at the moment. I let the hot water run for a few seconds before stepping in an letting the heat act as a therapeutic blanket. As I closed my eyes and let the heat work its magic, I found myself feeling a sudden wave of worry. For years, I had the weight of my past on my shoulders, even when I accepted it and moved on, it was bound that another spell would be cast. It was irritating and I wanted it to be over with.

My body migrated to sit on the floor of the showers after I let the water push the soap off my skin. The water found its way to my hair and I didn't even bother to move it away from my face. It sucked seeing people die repeatedly, whether it be in memory or something more gruesome. It was even worse to sometimes see the brothers revert to their evil selves. The memory of seeing Sam’s eyes flash blue with angel grace, Dean in the kitchen doorway with black eyes and the distasted kiss relayed and I sighed. I knew I could beat the enchantment as I had in the past but, had I really beaten my past to do so?

 

+++

In the bunker library, Sam and I sat at the table and waited for Dean although I didn't even know if Sam knew he was awake. Just then, as Sam got off the phone with Cas, Dean came into the room balancing three plates in his hands. He placed down an omelette in front of Sam and round the table to sit opposite his brother and next to me, handing me my plate.

“You made egg-white omelettes?” Sam asked in disbelief. “Yeah. Breakfast of Champions- you know, if you're a dork like you.” Dean responded. I squinted my eyes at him and he turned to look at me just in time to notice it. “No offense to you, sweetheart.” He rushed.

Sam looked at his watch, “And you slept past 7:00.”

“Yeah, well, until we get answers on this Mark of Cain, I am on a 12-step program not to backslide.” I turned in my chair, intrigued. “12 steps?” Sam and I asked simultaneously. “Yeah. Hey, if Cain found a way to live with it after going dark side, then I just got to find a way to keep it in check, so haven't had a drink in a week, eight hours of rack time every night, and… now, this masterpiece.” I was ready to question his lack of the other 9 steps but decided not to since he was on such a roll…

…But his brother isn’t me. “That's three steps.” Sam pointed out and Dean looked between the two of us for a split second. “Shut up and eat.” He sassed. Sam and I laughed a little and Sam picked up his fork as did Dean, and cut the omelette before taking a bit. I didn't bother to start eating yet, but instead, I waited for Dean reaction of his food.

“Wow. That's- that's awesome.” Sam praised. Dean stopped attempting to chew. “It's crap. Ugh. God. Soon as we get rid of this demonic tramp stamp, I am back on the booze, burgers, and… more booze.” Dean said, pushing the plate of the omelette away from him. I laughed a little and took a bite out of mine and savored the taste. It wasn’t bad. At all. Dean was just a grease head and his brother was, well, not. I, on the other hand, was a perfect combination of the two, which would make my food consumption normal, being that I enjoyed both the healthier and the fattier foods.

Time passed by as we did more research on trying to remove the mark. At one point Dean brought Sam and me a green smoothie and like before, I watched him before taking my own. He took a sip and pushed it away in distaste as I had presumed.

Even more time went by and I noticed Sam watching his laptop almost in shock. As soon as I was about to ask, he scrunched his eyebrows. “What the hell?” He questioned, watching the screen. “Cain or Crowley?” Dean asked from the bookshelf behind him. I got up from my seat and looked over Sam’s shoulder to see what he was so shocked to see. My jaw slightly slacked at the sight of the familiar redhead.

“Charlie,” Sam and I said simultaneously. I stood up straight and looked back at Dean who looked up from the book without worry. “Is she back from Oz? She didn't call?” He closed the book and placed it back on the shelf before migrating towards us. “Yeah, uh… She's been busy.” Dean and I looked over Sam's shoulders to see him playing a video on his computer screen. A short-haired Charlie in dark clothes was beating someone up in their yard in the middle of the night.

“What the hell am I looking at?” Dean asked mid video. “So, you know, I was looking into the news, checking for anything weird, right? I found this story about a torture vic. Apparently, some kid videotaped this at his next-door neighbor's house.” Sam read. I was ready to say something about the fact that we were researching the mark, not cases, but I remembered that Sam always had a program in his computer that filed any weird or strange happenings that hit the news together. Usually if they were crap, he’d trash them but otherwise, he read through those like a teenage girl with boy crazy magazines.

“What are you saying, Charlie tortured someone?” Dean questioned, upset at the accusation. Sam didn't fully answer. “Our Charlie? Yay high, wouldn't hurt a Hobbit, practically sparkles?” He continued emphasizing her size. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number.

Sam clicked on his computer and a few articles popped up. “The guy she went all Jack Bauer on- uh, Peter Harper.” Dean hung up the phone behind me, upset Charlie wouldn’t pick up. Sam continued, “District attorney in Topeka. According to this article, he wasn't the only person in town that was hit. Uh, a court stenographer was assaulted the night before.”

I paced a little, trying to piece things together but nothing was coming into thought. “I don't think its in Charlie to do something like this to someone,” I said, not understanding. “Not without a reason.” Dean peaked. Sam sighed, turning in his chair a bit. “Yeah, I wouldn't think so either, but look at the video.”

“Oh, I'm looking at it. But you know what we do, taken out of context, it doesn't look that much different. She could be hunting.” Sam sighed at his brother's quick conclusion. Dean continued, “Why don't we go talk to this asshat and see what's going on?” I nodded and we all headed to our respective rooms.

It had been forever since I had heard anything about Charlie. I knew she left to Oz the night I got back from Florida but it was off to see her back without getting so much as a call. I had hoped she was attacking people for a reason because it would really suck if we had to shut her spree down.

I changed and grabbed my duffle, tossing it onto the bed. I zipped it open and swiped my gun off the dresser before checking its load and putting it in with the rest of my weapons and clothes. An unsettling feeling set in as I looked into my bag and saw my gun. I hoped I didn't need to use it, any of it.

The boys were waiting for me in the garage and I looked back at my car as they were loading their stuff in the trunk of the Impala. “Hey, should I take mine just in case?” I asked. Sam and Dean looked at each other and Sam shrugged. “Nah, we’ll be fine with one,” Dean said as he grabbed my bag and placed in the trunk before shutting it.

Dean got in the driver seat while Sam and I stayed in place. Sam put his hands in his jean pockets and evidently shrunk in posture. “Are- are you okay?” He asked, making eye contact but trying to make as little as possible to not make me uncomfortable. I shrugged, “I could be better.”

“Look, about earlier, I didn't-” I shook my head, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Sam, it’s fine, okay? Those things are just out of our control…”

“If you two are done sharing tissues, I’d like to go find Charlie now.” Dean jokingly yelled out the window. Sam clenched his jaw and walked away from me, sitting in the passenger seat. I looked up at the ceiling and let out a groan of frustration.

 

+++

After a long drive and a stop at the first victim's house, we finally made it to Peter Harper’s house. Sam and Dean were questioning the district attorney while I faked needing to use the restroom and checked the house out for oddities. I heard the muffled conversation from upstairs but tried to pay no mind as I rummaged through the man’s clothes, bed, closet, etc.

I was looking under the bed when the conversation downstairs caught my attention. “All she wanted was to know was about some case that I worked on years ago- drunk driver T-boned another car, killing the driver, and the passenger was declared brain-dead on the scene.” Mr. Harper said. There was silence for a moment.

“The Middletons. They had a daughter, 12 years old. They were on their way to pick her up.” I got up from the floor and listened in as I checked the computer. It was difficult to decipher the voices downstairs but there was something in the dialect that I knew when it was either the brothers or Peter.

“Yeah, that's right. How did you know that?” I hacked the password and checked the history.

“Well, we do our homework at the FBI.” Nothing supernatural or homicidally weird in the recent or past.

“Okay, well, then you know the case never went to trial. Before I could even see the evidence, it was off the books. All the files were sealed.” I overlooked the search history from the past two days again and opened the articles and files opened about the case discussed downstairs.

“Now, how is that even possible?” Emails were also opened from the trash bin and I read through the messages and articles of the fatal car crash.

“I don't know. But I looked into it this morning. There's no record of that case anywhere, and the arresting officer has since passed away. There's nothing, except for this- the social service file on the Middletons' kid. It's not very helpful, to be honest with you. The kid has disappeared, until now.” I hacked into the social services database and looked at the file he was speaking of. Celeste Middleton, known to us as Charlie Bradbury, was an orphan after her parents died and she ran away from the services and completely disappeared not too soon after.

“Now, is there anything else you can remember about the case- any names you can think of?” The email suggested a generous bank statement and phone history definitely showed signs of activity at the time of the case.

“No. Like I told the police, it was so long ago. Look, I'm sorry.”

“All right. Here's the thing. We talked to the other victim on the way here- the stenographer. Now, she said the attacker didn't let her go until she gave up a name- your name.” I printed the articles along with bank and phone history and folded it into my inner blazer pocket. The computer was wiped of my presence and I made my way down the stairs.

“Okay. But w-what does that have to do with m-me being attacked in my own home, here?” Dean physically got angry at Peter and neither of the three acknowledged my presence. “What name did you give up?” Dean egged.

“Look, I told you everything I told the police. This woman comes in here, beats the tar out of me, but-but there's no name to give up, so I- I don't know what else to-” Dean shoved Peter’s chair back and got in his face. “Hey, w-what are you doing?!” The man yelled.

Dean wasn’t having it. “Talk, you son of a bitch!” Peter held his hands up, even the strapped one from a shoulder sling. “Hey, look, I'm the victim, here!” Dean faked dropping the chair backwards. “Talk!” I felt my breath hitch in my throat and Sam looked to the side to see me and silently asked if I got anything. I tilted my head to the sides, not wanting to nod because it would suggest Peter was a monster, which he was, just a different kind so I just opened my suit jacket to reveal the papers to Sam which he understood.

“Okay. Okay. All right. All right.” Dean rights the chair. Peter continued as he rubbed his shoulder. “After the files were sealed… I pushed. And, uh… They offered me money- a lot of money.”

“Give me a name,” Dean warned. “The money kept on coming in from overseas accounts.” That obviously wasn’t the right answer for Dean. “Give me a name!” He yelled. “I will be disbarred!” Peter cried and Dean leaned down, very quiet and ominous. “That'll be the least of your worries, I promise you that.” Peter looked at Sam and me for help and when we didn't move, he fought internally.

“Councilwoman Barbara Cordry.” He cried. Dean stood up and buttoned his suit before turning around and following Sam and me out the door.

In the car, I passed the filed to Sam and he read them aloud to Dean as he drove to Councilwoman Barbara Cordry’s house. Sam also read Charlie's social work file by flashlight. I leaned on the front seats as Sam read aloud and ran my hand through the back of Dean’s hair as he drove.

“Celeste Middleton. Celeste- that's Charlie's real name. Guess she's looking for the person who, uh, destroyed her family.” Sam read and theorized. “Can you blame her? You know, we just got to find her before she does something nobody can walk away from.” Dean sighed. I looked at him through the rearview. “You don't think Charlie would do something like that. Do you?” Sam turned to look at me and Dean made the same knowing look as his brother and I bit the inside of my cheek.

I leaned over to kiss Dean’s hair and messed his brother's hair up before spreading myself out in the backseat “Wake me up when we get to the council lady’s house.”

 

+++

I woke up with a large inhale and hit my head on the top of the car, groaning in pain as I rubbed my head. Dean looked back as he drove and Sam did the same, obviously concerned. “I’m gonna kill that Hobbit of an angel.” I snarled to no one in particular. “You alright?” Dean asked, watching me through the rearview mirror. I shook the images of black and blue out of my head and met his gaze.

“Other than the bruise forming on my head, yeah. Just more Metatron crap.” I rolled my eyes at the mention of his name and the two looked at each other. I looked out the window and saw a compilation of large houses. I assumed we were in the neighborhood for our next victim.

Dean parked the Impala across the street and let me knock on the front door when we reached it. The door opened and an older woman with pale skin and short blonde hair opened the door.

“Barbara Cordry?” I asked. She looked between the three of us, “Can I help you?” She asked and the three of us flashed our badges at her. Sam took over after that. “Yes. I'm Special Agent Gabriel. These are my partners, Special Agent Collins and Harris. May we come in?”

Barbara stood her ground at the door. “What's this about?”

“We have some questions about a drunk-driving case from a while back involving the Middleton family.” A flash of recognition covered her face but she tried to play it off. “I have no idea what you're talking about.” She pushed. “Ma'am, if we could just-” Dean tried, only to be cut off.

“Sorry. I'm still on vacation. Feel free to schedule an appointment with my assistant. She'll pencil you both in.” She shut the door in our faces and I let out a breath. “I love it when ‘I don't know what you're talking about’ is the first thing a guilty person says.” I stretched, nodding back at the house.

We planned to do a stakeout to try and catch Charlie in the act but needed to get out of the suits we were in first. We changed at the Bunker not too far from Barbara’s house and got food to stake out in the Impala.

I watched as Dean bit into his sandwich and squint. “What the hell is kale?” I laughed at his failing healthiness and ate my bacon and cheese fries. Sam was barely touching his food as he kept going over Charlie’s file. “‘Anti-authority disorder, clinical depression, violent outbursts.’ Charlie was, uh…”

“Dude. If a shrink interviewed us at that age, you think the report would be all kittens and rainbows? Come on. She's a good kid. There's got to be an explanation for this, man. There's just got to be.” Dean tried and a few seconds later, a crash and a scream came from inside the house. I whined at the last of the fries in my basket and jumped out of the car and followed the brothers into the house, drawing my gun.

Charlie with ear length hair and dark clothing was in the living room holding Barbara Cordry with her back to her chest and blade to her neck. “Should have known Gamora, Rocket, and Groot would track me down.” She smirked, backing up with Barbara still in her hold.

“Let her go.” Sam forced.

“Who? Oh, her?” Charlie looked at Barbara and her evil like smile grew.

“Don't do this.” Sam clenched his jaw, trying to get through to her. “I just want answers.” She shrugged innocently. Dean's face scrunched, “Yeah? Since when do you start pounding on people for those? What the hell happened to you in Oz?” His tone changed to almost sincerity as he asked about Oz.

“Everything I wanted. An adventure. Even got my own little sword.” She twisted the blade looking at it in a daze and looked at us with hooded eyes. “Charlie-”

Charlie cut Sam off with a pitty tone. “Oh, Sam, you're adorable. You're not gonna hurt me. In fact, that's your problem- all good-guy code, no bite. What a waste. And you…” She turned to look at Dean, “Always letting this albatross hold you back.” She turned to look at me next and I found myself holding my breath. “Need I say more?” She teased, making me want to chuck her with my gun.

“Okay, all right, you know what? I don't know what's going on here, okay? But this-this is not you.” Dean tried and Charlie's face didn't change, only darkened. “Oh, it's me, all right.” I fought with tightening my hold on my gun or lowering it. This was Charlie for Pete's sake. The girl who helped us take down the Leviathan, the girl who was a nerd for almost every form of nerd fandom, the girl who would probably marry ScarJo if she could, not dark and evil.

Dean moved to put his gun away and stepped towards Charlie still holding Barbara and Sam and I followed suit. “Charlie put the knife down. Let her go. We don't want to hurt you, kiddo, but we're not gonna let you do this.” She looked between the three of us and threw Barbara to the ground before rushing out. Dean ran after her and their fighting could be heard from the living room.

“Stop! Crap!” Dean muttered almost childlike in the other room and as much as I wanted to laugh at the tone, I couldn’t. I made sure Sam was okay with Barbara before rushing to the entrance where Charlie's legs were around Deans neck like a wrestling pin. I drew my gun and pointed it at her.

“Oh, look, Dean, it’s almost like the day you met. Cute.” She teased. I cocked the gun and looked between me and the gun. She rushed out the door and I checked on a coughing Dean before we rushed out to follow her. As we saw her drive away in a large SUV, Dean and I rushed to the Impala to chase her but we noticed one of the tires were slashed.

“Oh, you son of a bitch,” Dean yelled towards the far gone SUV. Sam came rushing out of the house and just then, a familiar yellow Volkswagen beeped the horn. We exchanged looks of confusion and oddity as the redhead came to a stop with a smile. “What's up, bitches? Right. Um, we should probably catch up…”

 

+++

At a bar, we all sat at a table, catching up. I had never been so brain hurt- actually, forget I said that.

“There two of you- one good, one… bad?” Sam asked, obvious clarification needed for us all. “Yeah, what, dick you is some sort of a ninja?” Dean added. Charlie smiled at the thought, “She is a badass, yeah.”

I squinted my eyes, “A badass who I was seconds from shooting for the mouth on her.” I sassed, still hating the diss of Dean and me. Sam shoved my comment aside and tried for more clarification. “O-okay. Hold on. Back up. We were there for Dorothy, Oz, yellow brick road. B-but then…”

“War. The war for Emerald City. It was awesome. Until not so much. We were gonna lose, so I made a deal with the wizard… of Oz. Wears a hood and a creepy mask, kind of a jerk- good times. He said for us to win, I had to unleash my true darkness, which he meant literally. He used the inner key of Oz. It opens a door to your soul and lets the darkness out. Uh, we're still connected physically. If you hurt her, you hurt me. But bottom line, she's bad, and I'm good. And let me just tell you, being good is really annoying. Normally in a place like this, I'd be pounding Harvey Wallbangers and checking out the bartender's ass. Now all I want to do is sip club soda and send her to college.” I almost spit my drink.

Everyone looked my way before Dean reverted to the topic at hand. “Okay, uh… good Charlie. So, why is dark Charlie gunning for revenge?” Charlie sighed, “She's trying to win me back. Dark Charlie won the war single-handedly. But... She did some truly awful things. But I told her I didn't want any part of her near me again, ever. Going after the person who mur- mur- uh… Who took my parents away is her messed-up way of showing me how close we are, or-or could be. I keep calling her "she," but she's me. I'm the one doing this.”

She looked like a ton of bricks just weighed in on her shoulders and I looked at her reassuringly. “That’s not who you are, Charlie. She’s some- some twisted version of-of-” She looked up at me, “Me. I've been following her so I can catch her before she does something stupid a-and just lock her away forever.”

“Uh, Charlie?... That's not an answer.” Sam said softly. “Sam's right. We'll go back to Oz, and we'll- we'll get the key from the wizard of douche, and we'll put you back together.” Dean strained, trying to come up with a better plan. “Even if I did want her back… Look dark me broke the key. There's no way to get back to the wizard.”

We were all quiet for a moment until Sam perked. “ Okay, okay, first thing's first. We need to find dark Charlie before she finds the drunk driver. So, we know Barbara gave up her old bank statements, right? That means dark Charlie will probably follow the money back to whoever made the payoffs.” Charlie smiled, “That's what I would do.”

“I'll get some refills.” Dean slid out of the booth and took our glasses. Sam took out his computer and logged in. “We need you… to hack into Barbara's bank accounts.” He slid the computer towards Charlie and she pushed it back. “I can't.” She admitted. “It's bad. I told you- being good is annoying.”

Sam sighed and I grabbed the computer. “Well good thing you taught me how to do this then.” I winked at Charlie. And usually, because she vividly expressed her playful attraction to me, she would do something of the similar nature in return but she looked over at Dean as he made his way back as if she knew we were together.

My eyebrows shot to the ceiling, shocked she wasn’t kidding about being good. Sam raised an eyebrow and reverted the topic as he looked over my shoulder. “Okay, so, Barbara's payments all came from offshore accounts, which were routed through dummy corporations, which have all gone belly-up.” Dean stood at the end of the table, listening in. “Alright, skip to the end, dragon tattoo. They all lead back to this guy?” He pointed at the laptop.

“Russell Wellington, actually. According to his personal records, he had a car that was reported stolen the week of the accident…. And, um, after the “theft” he took off work for two weeks and came back all busted up…” I looked slowly at Charlie to find her trying to form words after the revelation.

She swallowed hard, “So this is him. This is the man who, uh…” I bit the inside of my cheek and Dean closed the computer. “And you're done. Sam.” Dean pulled his brother out of the booth so consult with him and before I could say anything, Charlie did it for me.

“Hey, dudes. Dudes. Secrets are bad.” Dean turned around, “Charlie, I don't think you should be anywhere around this piece-of-crap salesman.” Sam continued, doing a knowing brother tag team tactic to convince you to go along with what they wanted. For the first time probably ever, I agreed. “And- and I don't think that finding dark Charlie and locking her up is gonna work. I mean, she may be… dark, but she's still a part of you.”

I looked over at Charlie, awaiting a reaction that was anything other than the calm nod she gave. “You're right. I hate it, but you're right. Okay. Let's go to the bunker. Baum used the key to Oz. Maybe there's something in the Men of Letters' files about the key. If we fix it, we can get back to Oz.” I sighed, feeling the need to chug my drink at the weirdness that was our lives.

Dean looked between the three of us, “Alright, you guys dig into that. I'm gonna keep an eye on Russell and, uh… wait for dark Charlie to show up.” Sam turned to his brother in protest. “Dean, maybe- maybe I should be the one…”

“No, no, no, no, no. I got it. It's, uh- I just can't believe I have to… protect this piece of crap.” By piece of crap, Dean meant the douche that basically ruined Charlie's life. Dean sighed, meeting my gaze and gesturing in my direction. “Look, will it make you feel better if I took Britt with me?” Sam’s eyebrows stitched together, “Yes, it would, but you gotta protect them both. I mean, if dark Charlie gets hurt, then…”

“So do I, so… be careful.” Charlie revealed and I took a breath at the newly found complication. Dean and I looked at each other with the same feeling and he nodded towards the door. “Got it.” He said to the two as we left.

+++  
It started out as stalking Russell Wellington at his business, where we tried the silent route in not speaking to each other about the events that very morning, but we were both itching for something, anything. I just wished I had my fries.

Dean started the Impala and put in a tape I hadn’t seen before and reached into his jacket pocket. As a quieting, most likely meditation podcast started playing, I wanted to burst of laughter, but I knew he was really trying with the whole ‘12 step (which is actually 3 steps) plan’ Dean offered me some almonds from his stash and I urged him to eat it since I wasn't hungry. I laid back in the seat and let my head fall backwards to get comfortable and listen to the meditation tape myself.

“The key to quieting your mind is minding your quiet. Know and understand the lack of an answer is-” Suddenly, Dean pulled out the tape and tossed it to the back seat. “I was listening to that!” I wined. Something caught Dean's eye in the distance and my eyes followed. Russell pulled into the parking lot and got out of his car.

I looked back with a knowing look. I didn't want to protect this guy, and neither did he but we had to, for Charlie's sake. Dean sighed and I squished his cheeks in my hand before getting out of the car, ignoring the dirty look he gave. I read the sign in the front of the building and got a light bulb for our aliases.

“Trunk.” I looked back at Dean. He furrowed his eyebrows before rolling his eyes after practically forcing him. I bent into the trunk and grabbed a wire and pliers. Dean’s body touched mine as I bent the wire into a ring. “I do love those jeans.” He said lowly.

I laughed off his comment and he looked at what I was doing. “What's this for?”

“We can't talk our mouths off about a house just as a relationship that could fall at any moment. Not that it will, I hope.” I showed Dean my masterpiece and he took it from me. His lips turned into an upside down U as he looked at the nicely wrapped wire in the shape of a ring. Dean cleared his throat and got on one knee, my hands, dramatically, fanned my face.

“Will you, Britt Angela Malloway, fake marry me to stall and selflessly protect the murderer of our friends family?” I nodded and grabbed his face in my hands as I brought him up to do the routine merrital kiss. We laughed as we pulled apart and I grabbed the ring, putting it on. “Oh my god! It's beautiful! This must’ve cost, what, three dollars?”

We laughed as we walked towards the building and Dean shifted his preexisting ring onto his ring finger. When we got in, Dean signed us in and we sat amongst a group of people. One by one they all met with the man of the hour and all we had to do was make sure Dark Charlie didn't show up.

Hours went by and nothing. Dean was into a magazine most likely eyeing the women in it and I was there to scold him every time he glanced up, but other than that, I was focused on the door. The woman called names as usual for their appointments but she had been calling the same ones three times already. “Mr. Presley and Mrs. Presley?” I looked over at her and her eyes were intent on mine. I backhanded Dean's chest and he fumbled with the magazine before putting it down and looking at me as I pointed at the woman.

“Yes. Yeah. Hi. Uh, actually, I'm, uh, you know, really into this article on, uh… mammograms. Riveting stuff. If somebody else wants to go…” Dean trailed off as we noticed we were the last people in the room. “Right. Yes. Okay. Well… let's do this. Sweetie.” He held his hand out for me and I took it, silently apologizing to the woman.

As we walked down the hall with the office assistants escort, I turned to Dean. “Presley?”

“You like?” He smiled. “I do.”

The office assistant showed us into Russell’s office. “Mr. and Mrs.Presley for you, sir.” Russell and the assistant carried a conversation as Dean and I stood there awkwardly. The office assistant left and we were met with Russell in all his glory.

“Thank you. Mr. Presley, Mrs.Presley Russell Wellington. Please have a seat. So… What can you tell me about what you're looking for today?” He asked, sitting at his desk. Dean and I looked at each other and knew we were about to flood the room with more BS than we ever have. “Uh, right. Well, um . . . Let me describe my dream home.” Dean started.

Not even an hour later, Russell stopped us as we were talking about whether we did or didn't need a jacuzzi for the sake of Dean’s BS love for bubbles. “Uh, Mr, Mrs. Presley, look, I'm just gonna stop you right there. Judging from your cheap shoes and your faded jeans, I'm guessing the only house you're in the market for comes with wheels. Now, look, I'm a busy man. My time is extremely valuable. I prefer not to have it wasted by some hayseed and girl he most likely pays to accompany him.” I rolled my eyes and Dean’s look remained neutral.

“I'm willing to buy if you're willing to sell. So why don't you show me what you got?” Dean forced. “Well, I can show you the door.” He picked up the phone to call security and I unplugged the phone and threw it at the wall, making it break on impact. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“We’re the people who are gonna save your pathetic life.” I spat with a smile, Russell looked taken aback as he looked between Dean and me. “Excuse me?”

Dean sat smugly in his seat. “Hill and Oak Street. Station wagon with a man and a woman in it, on their way to pick up their little daughter from a slumber party. That ring a bell?” Russell, like everyone else, looked guilty right as they were about to deny it.

“I-I-I-I don't know what you're talking about.” He stuttered. “Oh, no, you wouldn't, 'cause you were too drunk to remember anything that night.” Dean stood up and Russell stumbled over his words. “I think you have me confused with somebody else. Or somebody that cares. Or maybe somebody who wouldn't pay people off to cover up manslaughter.” He made his way to the door and I stood in front of it. “You're insane.” He looked between Dean and me.

Just then, the lights went out. “What the hell is going on?” He asked, more fearful that it was us who did it. I looked over at Dean and he was just as confused as me. A light bulb went off in his head and soon, one went off in my head, too. Dark Charlie was here.

Dean rushed to leave the room to investigate. “Stay here. Do not leave this room.” He warned. I stayed with Russell as he left and I looked over at him. “We’re gonna be fine. Everything’s fine.” I smiled.

“What is this?” Russell asked after seconds of silence.

“Protection,” I said simply, admiring the job of the wire ring around my finger. “Protection from what?” Just as I was about to give another blunt answer, the door opened and in came Dean. “Mr.-” He stopped in the middle of his sentence and behind Dean was Dark Charlie.

“Celeste,” Russell said in shock. “No one's called me that in a long, long time.” She replied darkly as she furthered herself into the office. Russell took small steps backwards as she moved closer. “Uh… I am so sorry. What I did- it… I was young. I was stupid. What I took, I… I can never give back to you. But what I did after the accident, that never should have happened. And I wasn't drunk for that. I was stone-cold sober. It was selfish… and wrong. And I should pay for it. And I will pay for it.”

I moved over to Dean who was still I the doorway and silently asked if this was okay. He nodded and we watched the two's interaction. “Please… Celeste, I am so sorry.” Russell begged. Dark Charlie stopped her movements, “Russell? I forgive you.”

Before we even knew what was happening, she turned around, and slammed the door, locking it. Dean and I started to bang on the door and collectively call for her. “Don't do this, Charlie!” He begged. Seconds later, we heard a window smash and Dean kicked down the door in a panic. There, on the floor was Russell, dead, with Charlie nowhere in sight.

“Dammit, Dean.” I scoffed in anger, more at the situation than Dean himself. We rushed out of the office and not even a trail of a car or van was left. “Dammit, Dean!”

“Okay! I get it!” He yelled back in frustration. He pulled out his phone and picked his brother's number and put the phone on speaker.

“Dean. Hey, hold on. I'm putting you on speaker. What happened?”

“It's over.”

“What do you mean, "it's over"?” Sam asked, audibly leaning closer to the phone.

Dean closed his eyes for a second. “She got to Russell. She killed him.”

“Oh, my God.” Charlie’s voice muttered softly over the phone.  
  
Dean bit the inside of his lip, “Charlie, if you can hear me, I'm so sorry.”

“It's not your fault. It's mine.” She sighed. Dean shook his head, “No, no, no. don't- don't say that. This is not on you.” I grabbed Dean's free hand. “Nor is it on you,” I whispered so only he heard me.

“All right, let's, uh- let's try and stick to the plan, guys.” Sam cooed, trying to change the mood. Dean looked at me and kissed the backside of my hand as it was intertwined with his.

“Find anything on Oz?” I asked.

“Maybe. Uh, look, t-the Man of Letters who originally found the key- he's still alive. He lives in Junction City under the name Michael Carter. I'll text you the address. Just come meet us.” Sam directed.

“All right. We’re on our way.” Dean said before hanging up. We made our way to the Impala hand in hand. In the car, we let out a deep breath at the same time and looked at each other, “I need a drink.” We said simultaneously.

At the same bar from earlier, I downed a shot and felt like I needed to reevaluate from the previous events of the day. Just as I was about to walk into a stall in the restroom, Dark Charlie was seen behind me from the mirror. As I turned around to defend myself, everything turned black.

 

**Dean’s POV**

Britt got up to use the restroom and I found myself staring at my drink, blaming myself. There was no doubt I didn't feel bad for what happened to Russell, but I did feel responsible for allowing Charlie to even step foot near him.

“She's cute.” I turned my head to see Dark Charlie and not Britt sitting next to me like I thought it was. I looked back at my drink, “You lied to me.”

Dark Charlie scoffed, “You lied to yourself. That's kind of your move. Something's off about you, though, isn't it? It's always something with you boys.” She smiled at the end, trying to make friendly conversation and turning things around.

I looked over at her watching me, “I've made mistakes. But I'll pay for mine. And you'll pay for yours.” She smiled and readjusted herself on the stool. “Come on, Dean. I'm not the monster here. He was. He got what he deserved. You know I'm right.” She leaned in closer, “You know what I learned about being dark? It sets you free. And part of you knows that's right, too.”

“Alright, listen, Dark Charlie.” She rolled her eyes, “Oh, grow up. There's no right. There's no wrong. There's just us… And them.” I turned in my seat, already done with the conversation. “Yeah, well, there's not gonna be a you for very much longer.”

Dark Charlie put a fake hurt expression on her face and held her heart, “Uh-oh. Did princess me find a way back to Oz?” It would be easy to lie 100% but Dark Charlie was still a form of Charlie who, like Britt, knew when I was lying. So, I did my best to lie.

“That's right. Yeah, a former Man of Letters, retired, in Grantville, two towns over. They're gonna fix the key to Oz, find the wizard, and put you back to where you belong.” She tilted her head, “Back into Charlie? Is that where I belong? Well… Hm. We'll just see, won't we? In the meantime… I’m gonna go ask that bartender to dance.” She winked at me, slid off the stool and followed the bartender to the back.

I looked at my shot that had been sitting there since Britt left and with that thought in mind, I looked to the back of the bar where the restrooms were. The bartender came back to restock the bar. “What happened, did my friend strikeout?” I asked.

She looked confused for a moment. “Your friend? She just left out the back door.” I looked over at the hallway and Britt was standing there holding her head and alert. Just then, I heard the revving of Baby’s engine and both Britt and me rushed out of the bar just in time to see Dark Charlie drive off in the Impala.

“No, no, no, no! Oh, you son of a bitch! Damn it.” I pulled out my phone and dialed my brother's number in a hurry. He picked up on the second ring and I put the phone on speaker for Britt. “Sam?”

“Hey. Where the hell are you?”

“Dick Charlie just hot-wired Baby. She thinks she's on her way to you.” Britt looked over at me in alarm and started kicking the dirt in anger.

“What?” Sam dug.

“I told her the wrong town, so I probably bought you a little time, but, uh, just be on the lookout. I'll be there as soon as I can jack a ride.” Britt looked around us and made her way through the lot, looking for an open car.

“Thanks. Hurry.” Sam said before we hung up.

Britt waved me over to a minivan and I hopped in the driver seat. I glanced over at Britt rubbing at her split cheekbone to the side of her head and back at her cheekbone. “What the hell happened?” I asked, trying to focus on her but the road at the same time. She glared at me and this time, I didn't have to look at her to know she was doing it. She didn't answer me mostly because it was obvious what happened. I looked over, “Well, at least stop rubbing it. It’ll make it sore quicker.”

She flopped her hands onto her lap dramatically and sighed exaggeratingly. After moments of silence, she turned sharply to look at me. I glanced over and was almost scared to ask. “What did she say to you?”

I swallowed, hard. “She tried to justify herself.”

“And?” I looked over again before staring at the road.

“And nothing.”

She turned to sit normally and sighed. I looked over, seeing the wire ring still on her finger. Even though she most likely forgot it was there since it felt like nothing, I couldn’t help but feel myself smile.

 

**Britt’s POV**

We jumped out of the car to rush to the house but the familiar rumble of the Impala made us stop and turn to watch Dark Charlie pull in right behind us. She slammed the door shut as she exited, “I figured you'd lie about where to go to next. That's what I would do.” She shrugged.

“What the hell do you want?” Dean forced. Dark Charlie threw her arms out to the side, “I just want to talk to her.” She started for the house, but Dean shifted his body to block her. “Oh, you're not going anywhere near her. I'm not gonna let you corrupt her.”

“Corrupt her?” She almost laughed. “You take one more step, I'm gonna put you down.” Dean looked over at me and nodded towards the house. “There's the Dean I love.” Dark Charlie smirked. I gave her one more look before I rushed towards the house where a green light could be seen from the windows.

I ran in to see a man in a robe standing over, a man on the floor and Charlie and Sam on the floor towards the back. “What have you done, you fool?” None of them had seen me yet.

“You had but one task- stay alive. And you couldn't even manage that.”

Suddenly, Charlie groaned in pain and her mouth was bleeding out of nowhere. I looked towards the window in a panic, remembering that she and Dark Charlie were connected by all means.

I rushed into the room, “Stop! Please, let us help her.” I looked at Charlie's busted lip as I held her face in my hands and the robe guy turned around. “Your friend wanted to be a hero. And you know what happens to heroes? They die.”

The robed guy extended his hand towards me and my throat felt like it was closing in on itself. I held a hand on my throat, feeling the compression grow stronger and I started to cough, letting go of Charlie completely. A flash of Dean with black eyes hinted as the pressure grew stronger and I shut my eyes closed, willing myself not to see it but I couldn’t stop seeing it. Not even a second later, Charlie cried in pain.

“I’m sorry,” I heard faintly from Charlie. “I forgive you. We both do.” I opened my eyes and my vision started to get cloudy and a gunshot rang through the house. The pressure on my throat seized and I looked over at Sam who was talking to Charlie in a hushed tone. I looked over at the robed man and the guy on the floor and saw the same gunshot wound in both of them. The more I looked at them, the more they looked like the same person.

Sam carried Charlie outside and I tried to go after but Sam urged me to stay and catch my breath which was still hard to find. As I was still stumbling around, trying to gain all feeling back, I eventually got out of the house just in time to see Dark Charlie turn into a soul and enter Charlie’s body. Dean, all bruised up, watched beside Sam and once Charlie was Charlie and in massive pain, Sam crouched down and cradled her.

 

+++

Back at the bunker, Dean wouldn’t say anything as I cleaned the blood off his face and put butterfly tape on his cuts like I put on my cheek. He left the room without a word. That was two days ago.

I went to check up on Charlie who I had fixed up first before Dean let me anywhere near him with a first aid kit. She was bruised up like Dean and needed an arm sling and when I found her in the halls, was on her way to the War room and I followed. Sam was standing by the map table while Dean was by himself in the library. Upon entering, Charlie and Dean were in a daze with each other until Sam noticed and cut in. I faintly heard Sam and Charlie’s conversation as I constantly kept looking over at Dean, knowing he felt bad for putting Charlie in her condition.

“So… are you…” Sam stretched. “Good? Bad? I think I'll just settle for balanced.” Charlie looked over at Dean, catching him watching us, then looked back to Sam. “Anything about the Mark?” She asked.

“Yeah, maybe. I found this book. It's a lore book- 'The Book of the Damned.'" Sam held up the printed piece of paper with the faint information. Charlie looked over, “Sounds legit.”

“It's in a library somewhere in Tuscany. It might be a dead end, but I figured…” Charlie took the paper out of his hand.

“I'll go check it out,” Charlie said nonchalantly. Sam and I looked at each other, “Charlie-” I tried. “Look, there's no going back to Oz. And with the wizard gone, Dorothy will be fine.” I almost laughed at the sentence itself and still couldn't believe it. “Okay then,” I said, putting my hands up in petty surrender.

I walked over to Dean and placed a light kiss on his hair before sitting across from him and watching him look between the book in front of him and Charlie. I tried not to let the flashback I had two nights ago get to me, but it did. It bothered me, a lot. And as much as I wanted to talk about it, I couldn’t. Dean was still finding his way with the Mark and venting to Sam was something I wasn’t a true fan of especially with the fact that he looks at me sadder every time.

I looked over at Charlie who was stepping up into the library. “Charlie, I…” Dean started, but Charlie cut him off. “We are going to fix this. I'm not letting what happened to me happen to you.” She said firmly. “But it's already happened.” Dean gestured faintly to his arm.

“Cain found a way to live with it.” Sam reminded him as he crossed his arms. “Right. Yeah, after centuries of murder.” Charlie looked even harsher at Dean. “Yeah, well, there's one thing that you have that he didn't. You're a Winchester.” Dean almost rolled his eyes at the poor excuse of a plus.

“I forgive you, Dean.” Dean barely looked her in the eye. “Yeah, well, I don't.” He looked over at me and I bit the inside of my cheek as I looked over at Charlie. “I know. Kind of your move. How's that working out for you, huh?” She sassed. Dean gave me one last look as he stood up from his seat. “I'm so sorry, kiddo.” He said softly as he pulled Charlie in for a hug. “Then prove it.” She said forcefully in his light embrace.

They let go and I stood up to hug her goodbye, followed by Sam. “Be careful out there.” Sam urged as she walked down the steps to the War room and grabbing her bag. “Does that sound like either of me? If I find something, I'll call. If not… I'll just keep digging.”

The three of us stood at the library’s frame as we watched her go up the stairs. “Charlie, thank you,” Sam emphasized. Charlie looked over at us and stopped on one of the steps. “Arrivederci, bitches.” With that, she left and we were left to ourselves.

“You good?” Sam asked, directed to his brother. “No.” He said blankly. “She's right, Dean. You can do this. We can do this.” Sam looked over at me and I nodded once. “Then let's get to work,” Dean said, Sam and I turned to grab some books and files and sit at the table where more endless research was to be conducted. 


	42. Where a Dream Dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sappy as hell, Worried!Dean, Badass!Winchesters, Forests, caves, yeah.  
> Episode: 10x13

I was sitting in the Bunkers library when the metal door opened and in came Sam. I had been mindlessly looking through lore for no particular reason and found a case for us. Before Sam could reach the bottom, in came Dean from the kitchen with a plate and a piece of food in his hand.

“Hey.” Sam started, he almost stopped at the sight of Dean eating. “What in the world?” both came to the library and Dean placed the plate on the book I had open in front of me. “A croissookie.”

“A croissookie?” Sam and I asked simultaneously. Dean hummed at the taste, “Yeah, they’re the new cronuts. I looked at my plate and let my mouth water at the sight of the cookie and chocolate drizzle on top of the croissant. “Okay. So, what? Half cookie, half–” Sam continued.

I grabbed the croissookie off of the plate and took a bite, almost mesmerized by the taste. “Shhhh, Samuel. Shhhh.” I closed my eyes and heard Sam laugh under his breath. Dean put his croissookie on the table and I eyed it as he and Sam sparked conversation.

“What did Cas say?”

“Uh, good news, bad news.” Sam took his phone out from his backpack and put his bag on the table. “Bad news- he discovered riverboat gambling. Good news- he thinks he might be closing in on Cain.” Dean turned around and went into the War room, his brother followed. “Oh wow. He thinks he might be.” Dean said sarcastically.

I took a sip of my coffee and almost spat it out. “Cas is finding Cain? When was someone gonna tell me?” Dean slowly turned around and both Winchesters started rambling, overpowering each other's excuses. “Yeah yeah, eventually. Go on, Sam.”

Dean turned back around and Sam continued. “Just east of the Mississippi somewhere in Illinois.”

“So maybe Cas finds Cain in the land of Lincoln. And then what?” Dean took a sip of his own coffee. “And then we get him to tell us how to get rid of the mark.”

“Don't you think that if Cain knew how to remove the mark, he would have done it, like centuries ago?” Sam looked at me for help but I waved my finger and continued to eat. “We won’t know ‘til we try.” Dean sighed and dropped his head before addressing his brother. “Sammy, I appreciate the effort, man. I do. But trying to find a cure for this thing, I-it’s like a dog chasing its tail. There’s no end in sight and you just end up dizzy.”

I grabbed my laptop and sighed. Dean had been on and off on with research on the mark after Charlie left and I was hoping that something would come up soon with either Charlie or Cas in which I didn't even know he was looking for Cain until then.

Sam was almost at a loss for words with his brother. “Dean, where there is a will-”

“There is a case. Hm? Check this out. Iowa teen claims possessed pickup kills driver.” Dean grabbed a tablet and handed it to Sam. “Let’s say we take our own trek to, uh, the Midwest,” Dean said with his back to me but I could hear the smile in his voice. He turned around awaiting an agreement but I cheesed awkwardly at him. His eyebrows strung together and he walked into the library.

“I would love to but… I also caught a case. Four hikers went missing in Herod, Illinois in the past week. Some guy says there's always an attack on those grounds but when he tries to report it, no one believes him.” I turned in my chair and crossed my arms. Sam grabbed my computer and started to read.

“So what are you thinking? Wendigo?” Dean asked.

“It's my best guess. I’m gonna talk to the guy first and see if its a case at all.” Both Sam and Dean nodded and I stood up grabbing my laptop from Sam and files from around the table. “So, I’m gonna head out now then. I’ll send whatever I find to Bobby so if anything… happens…”

I slowed my movements and cleared my throat, starting over. “I’ll send whatever I find to your phones so if you don't hear from me you know what I know and can go from there. I’ll turn on the tracker on my phone when I leave.”

I practically flew to my room and stuffed my laptop and clothes into my duffle. I couldn’t believe I said that so freely as if I had forgotten Bobby was dead. It had been a while since I went hunting on my own and was so used to sending Bobby info that I assumed he would be there again.

But I was wrong.

My park ranger uniform was throw in and I started to check the little weapons I had in my bag. I tried to ignore Dean’s figure in the doorway.

“You okay?” he asked from a distance. I pressed a button on my gun, making the magazine fall out and made sure I had bullets. He sighed, “Britt.”

I snapped the magazine back in its respective place and made sure the gun was on safety before throwing it in the bag with the rest of my stuff. I moved to zip it closed and Dean’s hand was on mine, stopping my movements entirely.

“Talk to me.” He said simply. He let go of me and sat on my bed as I unconsciously swayed and I held the duffle next to him. “There’s nothing to talk about Dean…”

Dean pursed his lips and grabbed my hand, looking down at it. “If I didn't know any better, I’d think you were trying to tell me something here.” He smiled holding my hand up. I looked at the wire wrapped around my ring finger and laughed softly at the memory. “With this life? I would never expect it from you.” I pulled my hand away and placed it on my left middle finger where any other ring I wore would sit.

Dean pursed his lips again with a single nod, “You never know. Whoever’s in charge has been hell-bent on keeping us alive so I’d say we got a long way to go.” I mirrored his smile and was happy to be stripped of my unnecessary self-hatred. I leaned down and pressed my lips to his soft ones, feeling him smile with it.

I pulled away and kissed him quickly before grabbing my duffle. I looked over to meet Dean’s eyes watching me with admiration. “What?” I laughed.

“I don't deserve you,” He said wistfully. I playfully rolled my eyes and swiped my phone off the nightstand beside me. “If that’s your way of saying it, you too.”

Dean watched me as I grabbed my jacket from the chair and tied it to one of the duffles straps. I turned around and nodded towards the door, snapping Dean out of his daze.

As we walked down the hall and towards the war room to part, I remembered something when I saw Sam in the library. “Oh, don't forget. I leave a file of maps, um, crime scene stuff and journal entries in a folder and tape it to the bottom of the bed in my motel rooms. If you can’t track my phone, you’ll have everything I had and everything I did. Okay?”

“Got it,” Sam smiled. “Be safe, okay? Call us if you need anything.” Dean said before leaning down for a kiss. I waved to Sam as I left and walked to the garage for my car and set for Herod, Illinois.

 

+++

I pulled up to the man’s house after changing into a suit and dropping my things off at a motel. I grabbed an FBI badge from a box in my glove compartment and stepped out of the car, making a car swerve as a man drove past. I straightened my skirt and made sure my gun was secured behind me before making way for the small townhouse.

I knocked on the door, seeing it open softly almost instantly.

“Mr.Hibiki Taro?” The shy Japanese man nodded slightly. I flashed him my badge, “I’m agent Jennifer Rose from the FBI. Is it alright if I ask you a few questions about what you said in the newspaper the other day?”

A look of confusion flashed on his face but he opened the door nonetheless, letting me in. “Why would the FBI care about the towns crazy man’s words in the local papers?” He asked with a very faint Japanese accent.

Mr. Taro was a seventy-year-old man whose wife was also in the attack he spoke of. He had filed countless reports, but she went under the missing file that no one paid attention to and the towns crazy man was born.

Mr. Taro led me to the living room filled with books and animal research. We sat opposite each other on the couches.

“Because you survived an attack where four people have gone missing from in the past week, Mr. Taro. If there’s anything you can tell me that would help, and I mean anything, you could save lives.” Mr.Taro swallowed hard before asking if I wanted tea which I gladly accepted.

He came back with a hot pot and teacups, placing it down on the coffee table between us. I pulled out a notepad and pen from my jacket before he started speaking.

“Five years ago, my late wife, Shinju and I went on our normal hiking trip that we would take every month or so with three of our friends from town... It all happened so quickly…” He took a napkin off the table and dabbed his eyes with it as I looked at him sympathetically. “One by one they started to disappear as we walked and we tried to look for them but when Shinju disappeared from right beside me and I felt a hand grab me hours later, I knew it was the end for me…”

I put down my teacup and wrote every key thing. “Did you ever see what grabbed you, Mr. Taro?” He shook his head, sipping on his cup. “No… but… I thought I died. Then I woke up in chains and found Shinju and our friends hanging like I was and couldn’t even save them before it came back…” Mr.Taro started to cry again and I didn't know whether to be hunting a werewolf, wendigo, or what.

“Mr. Taro,” He hummed, voice cracking. “Did it leave any marks on you that seemed weird or-”

“Yes, I was terribly wounded by being dragged and my foot was blue. Doctor says it's my foot dying and going to fall off soon but I don’t feel it dying.” I looked at his foot as he lifted the hem of his pant leg. His foot was definitely blue.

I wrote it down and took out my phone, “May I?” He held his foot out and I got multiple photos in all angles. Which I set a reminder to print.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Taro. You were of great help to the investigation.”

He led me out and I called Sam, knowing Dean was probably driving. He picked up almost instantly and with the almost sound of sudden feedback, I knew I was on speaker.

“Britt, Hi. How’s the case going?”

“It’s going. I just finished interviewing the survivor and am on my way back the motel to research my life away. There's definitely something here, but god knows what.”

“What’d you get?”

“A whole lot of everything. He went hiking with his wife and a few friends and they looked for the other after each one was taken hour by hour. He didn't even see his wife get taken and she was right next to him. Then when it was his turn, he said he was dragged and noticed this blue on his foot after he got away- hold on, let me send the pictures.” I peeled the phone away from my ear and sent the photo that was already waiting.

“Oh, god. Got them.” I put the phone on speaker and put in on my lap.

“Yeah, I know and get this, he saw every person of his party hanging and couldn’t even save them because he could barely make it out himself. And about his foot? Doc says amputation might be needed soon, but he says he doesn’t feel a thing wrong with it.”

“Looks like you’ve got a lot to research, sweetheart.” I rolled my eyes.

“Hi, Dean. And I do. I don't know whether this thing is a strategic werewolf with a pack who likes Buffett's, or a wendigo and a half.” I pulled up to the motel parked in front of my door, turning the car off and getting out of the car.

“What makes you think werewolf pack? There were no bodies without hearts.” Sam asked as I walked into the room.

“Neither were they found again. So they could be heartless, I don't know. I’m gonna check out the area in the morning.” I sighed as I threw my keys onto the table and took my gun out of the back of my skirt, placing it on the table. I took my heels off and peeled my jacket off, changing as we spoke. “How are things going over there?”

“We salted and burned Christine.” I could practically hear the smile in Dean’s voice.

“Possessed truck.” Sam sassed. “This guy was a spirit through electricity. So wifi, lights, phones, anything you can think of, he was it.”

I laughed, “ That's it, I've heard it all.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna get some shut eye here and head home, unless you need us over there...” Sam said. I grabbed a journal and my computer before sitting criss-cross on the bed. “No, no, no. I’m fine here, really. I’m gonna start my research now and do my log before I get some shut eye myself. You guys just go home and eat some more croissookies.” I laughed.

“Alright, call us if anything.”

“I’ll check in after. Okay? Bye.”

“Bye.” The brothers sang in unison.

We hung up and I sighed before starting up my computer and writing out Mr. Taro’s address and adding the paper I wrote notes on from the interview into the journal. The research took ages and without much information, like, I don't know, the remains of pretty much anyone ever taken similar to this case, there wasn’t much I could find. If it was a wendigo, I would find out the next morning when I was going to check out the national forest because it would most likely try and kill me. If it was a werewolf with a pack to feed, I had no leads on who any of them could be.

There were things that made it seem like there was no case at all, and it was frustrating. The information and lore matched up in separate ways and made it seem like certain characteristics were just of pure coincidence. But there had to be something here. Had to be.

When I was done for the night, I placed everything into the journal and file and taped it to the bottom of the bed before flopping onto the mattress. Before I was able to close my eyes, a knock on the door echoed through the room. I almost groaned as I rolled out of bed and grabbed my gun. I pulled back the curtain from the window a bit to see who was there and I put my gun down as I saw Mr. Taro.

I turned on the lights and opened the door. Mr. Taro looked at me sadly, “There was more than what I told you...” I opened the door further and let him in. “Would you like some water?” I asked.

He nodded and I grabbed a glass, turning around to grab some and I felt a sharp pain in my neck like I was injected with something. I turned around and dropped the cup, hearing it smash on the ground and started to feel numb. I couldn’t even reach out to attack the man because my arm had already given out.

“I’m sorry…” Mr. Taro said before I fell to the ground.

 

I woke up in my bed in the Bunker and looked over at Dean laying beside me, eyes fluttering open. His green eyes practically smiled as he looked at me. “Good morning, sweetheart.” He smiled. “Morning,” He kissed my forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing. I just had the craziest dream. I hunting this Wendigo or werewolf or something.”

“And…?”

“And nothing. I woke up before I could find out what it was.” Dean pursed his lips and put a piece of hair behind my ear, looking at me with heart filled eyes. “What?”

“I love you, so much.” I felt my heart stop and leaned in harshly, kissing him with every fiber in my body. He kissed me back with almost as much force and hovered his body over mine. The door opened and he broke away keeping his eyes closed as he laughed under his breath.

He turned his head and smiled, “Bobby… what did we say about opening closed doors?” Dean said in almost singsong as he then sat on top of me.

I sat up as Dean got off of me and what I expected to be my dead father figure was instead a mini version of Dean with my hair color instead of the chestnut color of Dean’s. “To knock first…” The kid had to have been no more than six and when he walked in he crawled onto the bed. Earning a bodily attack from Dean.

The kid laughed as Dean was play wrestling with him and I brushed fallen strands out of my face before freezing at the sudden sight of two rings on my finger. “Uh… Dean…” He turned his head slightly as he softened his tickling of the boy underneath him.

I held up my hand, “Married life much?” He smiled, scrunching his eyebrows a bit. “Uh, yeah. For about seven years now.” I looked around my room and noticed that not everything was like I remembered. A mix of Deans things, including my own, were in there along with new additions like picture frames and small toys every now and again.

I got out of bed and picked up the frame on the nightstand. A photo of me in a wedding dress and Dean in a tux under an old tree took me by surprise and one right next to it with me in a hospital bed holding a baby as Dean smiled next to me made a flood of memories of our marriage and pregnancy, endless drives to the diner for cravings, the birth of our child, along with his first everything's almost made me rush to the child playing on the bed and cry.

“Oh, baby, don't forget to call Kevin to see what time we need to head over tomorrow.” I looked back at Dean who winked at me. I raised an eyebrow and he covered the child’s ears. “For his birthday party.” The child laughed and I was still in slight shock at the name drop.

“O-okay.” I smiled. He let go of the kids head and I put the picture frame down. “Guess what's- tomorrow?” The kid laughed, still under Deans attack. “What’s tomorrow?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

“My- birthday!” He shouted in between laughs. Dean stopped and helped the kid stand up on the bed. “Really? How old will you be? Three?”

“No, Daddy. Six.” The kid held out his hand and pointer finger. “Wow! Six?!” The kid smiled proudly and Dean looked my way with a smile as I just watched the interaction. “Mommy, you remembered, right?”

I sat on the bed and gave the little boy the most heartfelt hug I could have ever given anyone. “Oh of course I did, Bobby.” I closed my eyes as I held him and when I opened them I saw Deans smile still in place. I held an arm out for him to join in and he kissed both of our heads as he held us in his arms.

 

**Deans POV**

I walked into the Bunker’s library and looked down at my phone for the millionth time that afternoon. Sam was sitting at the table on his laptop and when I walked in, he half closed the screen. “You okay?” He asked.

I sat down across from him and put the phone down. “Uh, yeah… yeah.” I glanced at the phone before looking at my brother who sighed before glancing at my phone.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Dean. She could be ganking the damn thing as we speak.”

I looked at my phone again, hoping it would light up with her name on it. “I don't know man. She said she was checking out the place in the morning and it’s already two in the afternoon over there.”

“No it's not.” Sam looked at me dumbly before opening his computer screen, looking at the time and counting on his fingers. He put his lips into a frown and hummed. “Hm, I guess it is. Why don't you call her then? She always answers you…”

Now it was my turn to look at my brother dumbly. “... Maybe not… when she was with the Finches…” He clenched his jaw, looking between me and the phone.

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

I picked up the phone off the table and pressed her name, putting it on speaker. It didn’t even ring before going to voicemail. Sam looked at the phone with scrunched eyebrows before pulling out his own and calling her. The same happened then.

“M-maybe her phone’s dead…?”

Sam stopped talking before he could start making things up. I tossed the phone onto the table, “We check again in an hour. If the same thing happens, we drive.” I wiped a hand down my face and jutted my chin out towards his laptop. “Whatcha doin’?”

He closed his laptop fully, sighing and folded his hands on his lap. I sighed, knowing he was looking for stuff about the Mark. Last night, after we got rid of the tech ghost, I told Sam I was done trying to look for a cure. I know they were trying but truth be told, the cure, for now, was keeping my peace and that was with hunting and at least pretending things were normal. I was done waking up with false hope and I tried to think of a brighter side but for now, I needed to keep a peace within myself.

“Sam…”

“Are you gonna tell Britt about your delayed search for a cure?” I almost rolled my eyes but instead, I clenched my jaw. “Maybe after we save her from whatever the hell took her.” I sassed. I stood out of my chair and tapped the table after I swiped my phone into my hand. “We’re out in five.”

Sam groaned under his breath as I, once again, avoided a conversation involving anything problematic. I walked into my room and grabbed my bag and weapons bag before heading to the garage where Sam stood on the passenger side waiting with his bag already in the backseat booth.

“Nice. I was hoping you didn't have to do your hair.” He blank-faced me and rolled his eyes as I tossed my bag in the back seat and we got into the Impala. Sam looked over at me as I started the car. “I still think you’re overthinking this.”

I shrugged, looking over at him. “Maybe I miss my girlfriend.”

He laughed. “Right.”

“That was the weirdest statement I have ever said.” I squinted as I pursed my lips.

“Out of all the crap that comes out of your mouth, _that_ was the weirdest?” He sassed.

“Shaddap,” I said playfully before driving out of the garage and making way for Herod, Illinois.

 

**Britt's POV**

Bobby wore a blindfold and headphones blasting Elvis (his choice of music) as we drove in the Impala to his surprise party. “He’s ours,” I said looking back at the kid mindlessly dancing to what could be heard as Hound Dog.

I felt Deans hand take a hold of my own and he glanced over at me as I tore my gaze away from Bobby. “He is, sweetheart. Are you okay? You’ve been a little out of it today.”

“I’ve never been better.” I smiled. We both looked back at the road ahead of us and I found myself recalling small things. “I will never forget the look on your face when I saved your ass from that vampire.” He chuckled. “Well, seeing this random chick standing over me with blood splattered on her and still managing to look hot had never happened before. And you pretty much had the same face when I saved your ass last week.”

I turned my head, “Last week?”

“Yeah. Vamp nest in Missouri. We dropped Bobby off with Sam and Jess for the week and took on the case…” I raised an eyebrow. “Jess? She’s alive?” Jess was Sam’s girlfriend when he went to Stanford. She died the same way their mother did: slashed in the stomach, magically pasted to the ceiling, and set to flames, done by the same yellow-eyed demon. That’s why the brothers had gotten into hunting in the first place. Their father wanted to find what had damaged their family and in the process, made his sons into the hunting machines they were today, all for revenge. And poor Sam, Jess’ death had fully brought him into hunting with Dean after managing to get out.

“Uh, yeah, she’s fine. We were just over there for Mom’s birthday.”

“Mary’s alive too?” he scrunched his eyebrows together. “Yeah… yeah, she is. We got them back when you, Sam and me saved a couple of Gods lives. They asked for any lives we’d want back...”

“Wh-what about John, My dad, my mom…?” He glanced at me and looked back at the road. “Uh, John, he died of a stroke before you and I met, _David_ is still dead, and your mom passed at childbirth… Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” An ocean of memories waved on me and I smiled, knowing stuff like that shouldn't have slipped my mind.

I almost stopped breathing as we pulled up to a house I thought I’d never see again. “The Leviathan-”

“Bobby made us rebuild that half after they tried to burn it down.”

“Right. Cause I asked for him from the gods…” I let the words hang. “We’ll you definitely believed in some religion when he was in the hospital after Dick Roman shot him.” I cleared my throat. “Of course. I needed something to keep him alive.” I laughed softly.

Dean parked and looked over at me. I felt butterflies when his green eyes raked over me. “I love you, Dean Winchester. I have always and always will love you.”

“I will never get used to hearing you say that, Britt. I love you, too.” I smiled kissing him before hearing Bobby move in the back seat. “Mommy! Are we there yet?!” He yelled, music still blasting. Dean and I laughed and I nodded towards the house. “You go on ahead. I’ll take him.”

Dean kissed me again before getting out of the car. I smiled as I watched him leave and got out of the car to join Bobby in the back. I took his headphones off slowly, making him jump slightly from the contact. “Hey, baby, it’s mommy. We’re here.”

Bobby smiled excitedly just like Dean and he moved his arms to take the blindfold off and I quickly held it in place. “Not so fast. I’ll tell you when you can take it off, okay?”

He kept his smile, reaching for my face, trying to feel it. He laughed and I saw Dean standing in the front door frame waving me in. I nodded and detached his hands from my face. “Alright, let's go, Bobby.”

Bobby walked in front of me, holding both of my hands as I guided him into the house. I almost cried at the sight of the inside of the house I for some reason thought burned to bits. We turned into the living room where Mary, Sam, Jess, a little girl and little boy, Jody, Bobby, Cas, Kevin, his mom, Charlie and someone who I could only presume as Dorothy, all stood off to the sides waiting for the child with the blindfold to take it off so they could yell surprise.

I crouched down, Dean following, “Okay, Bobby. You can take it off now.” He giggled as he took the red cloth off his face, messing his hair up in the process. He jumped up and down turning to hug me and Dean. “Happy Birthday, baby.” I kissed the side of his head.

 

**Dean’s POV**

“He might be crazy but, everyone keeps an eye out for him. He left after this lady in a suit went to his house. Like, right after.” Sam and I stood on the porch of Hibiki Taro’s neighbor’s house in our suits, trying to find Britt, who was definitely missing. Phone, car, all there at the Motel she was staying at. Glass was shattered on the floor and if it were by accident, it would've been picked up. There were no signs of a forced entry, so we retraced her steps.

And to our surprise (not) Mr. Taro wasn’t home.

“Did it seem like a stalkerish leave?” I asked, earning a look from Sam. The woman pondered, “... now that I think about it… yes.”

“Is there anywhere you think he would’ve gone?” Sam asked, holding his notepad and pen in hand, taking notes. She hummed, and it was almost as if a light bulb went off. “The Shawnee National Forest. It’s where his wife and friends disappeared… where some people have recently disappeared from.”

Before she could start asking questions concerning her crazed neighbor, we thanked her for her time and went back to our motel room next to Britt’s. We dressed in our normal clothes and got in the Impala to the disappearance area.

I went into the trunk and picked our weapons. Silver bullets if it were a werewolf pack, silver dipped in lambs blood if it were a djinn, fire flares for a Wendigo, and any weapon would work if Mr. Taro were a human crazy man.

Sam slammed the trunk shut after he got his share of weapons and without a word, we walked into the forest.

“There are no marks on the trees…” Sam started as we circled the area. “No lures…”

“So we rule out Wendigo?” He nodded once.

I heard the slight crunch of leaves not coming from either Sam or me and I pointed my gun in that direction, Sam doing the same. Mr. Taro stood there with hands up in surrender. “Where is she?!” I yelled.

“I had no choice! I’m sorry! He’ll kill my wife if I don't do what he says!” I gripped my gun. “Who?!”

“The dreamer man!” He said scaredly. Sam put his hand on my chest, telling me to stand down. “Djinn.” He said only to me before sulking over to the man, taking him under his hold. “You’re gonna take us to her. To all of them.”

Mr. Taro shakily pointed in a direction and we walked, keeping him close. “Do you buy it?” I asked softly so only Sam heard. “I don't know. He probably really survived the attack and in saving his wife, he offered to provide food.”

I hummed as the small man lead us into a cave. “In here.”

 

**Britt’s POV**

It had been weeks after Bobby’s birthday and I had invited Mary and Jess over to the Bunker while Sam and Dean were out on a hunt. They came down the stairwell with Jess’ little ones trailing behind. “Britt, honey, we’re here!” Mary yelled.

For a long time, I had only seen Sam and Dean’s mother in photographs. She was beautiful. Blonde, green eyes and personality just like her eldest. The same for Jess. I had only seen a photo of her once and to see her long blonde hair and light eyes would only make you think Sam saw her and thought of his mother.

Bobby ran out ahead of me and jumped up and down from excitement. For a second, I saw another adult on the staircase but when I turned my attention away, it was gone when I looked back. I hugged both Mary and Jess as they finished descending and crouched down to see the twins, John and Isabelle. Both had their father’s hair color and dimples and ever-changing eye colors. They each kissed a cheek at the same time and went off to play with Bobby who was only a year younger.

“I don't know why, but every time I see you two, It’s like I’m meeting you for the first time.” Mary laughed at my statement. “If that’s your way of talking about how young I look, thank you.”

We all laughed as we sat at the map table. “Do you guys want anything to drink? Water, beer, tea?” Jess smiled, “Tea.”

“Beer,” Mary smiled, making us all burst into a fit of laughter. I walked to the kitchen and grabbed the drinks and when I turned around a Japanese man no more than 5’2 stood in the doorway. I dropped the glass cup and bottle from my hand I got a vision of the man and myself in a motel room. I fell to the ground feeling a massive headache come over me. I got another vision of bodies being suspended with their hands over their heads and held my head in pain. A pan of blue eyes looked over mine for a second before turning dark hit and I breathed heavily, suddenly seeing Dean’s worried green eyes in front of me.

 

**Dean’s POV**

In the cave a woman was chained off to the side, no doubt his wife and then there were five bodies, including Britts, handcuffed and suspended over their heads and a pile of bodies drained of blood in another corner. Each person suspended had an IV coming out, withdrawing their blood.

I jutted my head over to Mr. Taro’s wife and Sam walked over to her, unchaining her and telling them to leave. They ran out with sorries and thank yous and seconds after they left two screams could be heard before a slice cut through the air. I looked over at Sam and he opened his jacket, taking out the knife dipped in lambs blood. I did the same as the shadow grew larger.

Suddenly, I felt a weight on my back and I fought it off, seeing a Hispanic woman no more than twenty-five on the floor before me tattoos started appearing from her shoulder to her hand, igniting a blue flame like Djinn magic that would make you sleep in your dreamscape as they drank your blood.

Sam was met with a man and fought him off, stabbing him in the chest with his weapon. The woman turned, hearing the man’s cry. “Donald!” She yelled. While turned on the floor, distracted, I stabbed her in the side.

I heaved a breath and told Sam to see who was still alive while I checked on Britt. I removed the IV and held her head in my hands, patting her cheek softly, trying to wake her up from her extremely weakened state. “Britt, hey. Hey! Baby wake up.” Her eyes started to softly blink open and I unhooked her from the chain dangling from the roof of the cave.

Sam started to unhook the dangling four from their IV’s and they all weakly started waking up on the floor. I looked back at Britt who was still in and out with the Djinns dreamscape for her. “No… Mommy’s… fine Bobby... get… grandma and… aunt… Jessie…” I pat her cheeks again, “Hey, hey. Sweetheart, Sam and I need you to pull yourself out.” Slowly, Britt blinked more and almost freaked out.

I held her in my arms and her hold eventually tightened around my neck. “Oh, god.” she breathed out probably looking around us.

 


End file.
